Aralyn pressed a trembling hand over her chest. "I thought…" she whispered, bowing her head as if the weight of three decades had finally settled on her shoulders.
She still didn't know how she had fainted when she first saw his face. One moment, there he was: her son, alive, breathing, real… and the next, darkness had claimed her. When she awoke, he was gone. He was not in the house… Not by her side.
And when word reached her that he had returned, a fierce longing gripped her heart. She wanted to see him again. To hold him. To finally tell him the truth that had lived like a caged bird inside her for thirty long years.
Thirty years…
