Chapter 21

Across the city, Maryanne Tomson, mother of two, tried to reach her son. Like many other things Maryanne tried to do, she failed.

Earlier that day, they had fought. It was one of the worst fights they’d had in years, all over some silly little hat. Devon, her son, had spent an ungodly sum on something that he’d likely wear once and then put away in a closet somewhere.

Three hundred dollars wasted to sit on a shelf and never be used again. A silly, stupid purchase. And after she had made her feelings known, her own son chose the hat over their family.

She had cried. There was no shame in admitting it. Did their family mean so little to him? Did she mean so little to him?

Maryanne cried and prayed all that morning. When the crying wouldn’t stop, and the prayers didn’t work, she turned to her greatest refuge—sleep. Many women her age struggle with sleep, but Maryanne had always been a dreamer. In the days that she used to have friends, they would all complain about their various sleepi
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