My Mother’s Death Put Me in a Courtroom and a Home That Isn’t Mine

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Seventeen-year-old Maeve survives the car crash that kills her mother, but the truth about that night haunts her. Sent to live with a father she doesn’t quite know, a stepmother who tries too hard, and a baby brother she refuses to know… Maeve must decide: will she keep running from the past or finally face the truth and find where she belongs?

I don’t remember the impact.

Not really.

I remember the rain. Light at first, then heavier, drumming against the windshield. I remember the sound of my mother’s laugh, my fingers tapping absently against the steering wheel as I told her about Nate, the boy who sat two seats ahead of me in chemistry.

I remember the way she glanced over, smirking.

He sounds like trouble, Maeve.

And I remember the headlights.

Too close.

Too fast.

The next thing I remember is screaming for my mother.

I was outside the car. Somehow. I don’t remember getting there.

My knees were soaked in mud, my hands covered in blood that wasn’t mine.

Mom was lying on the pavement, her body twisted wrong, her eyes half-open, staring at nothing.

I screamed her name until my throat burned. I tried to shake her awake, but she wouldn’t move.

Then… sirens.

Hands pulling me away.

A voice saying something about a drunk driver.

Another voice saying, “The mother was driving.”

I gasped, tried to tell them that it was me… but the words wouldn’t come. The world spun, my stomach twisted, and then…

Blackness.

I wake up in a hospital bed.

A dull, aching fog fills my skull. There’s a nurse. Machines beeping.

The distant murmur of voices in the hallway.

My throat is dry. My limbs feel wrong. The door opens, and I expect to see my mom.

For a horrible, fleeting second, I think maybe it was all just a dream.

But then my father steps in.

Thomas.

He looks older than I remember. The last time I saw him was… Christmas?

Two years ago? I can’t remember.

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