Her Beautiful, Bitter Lies

My mother was a liar.

When I was eight years old, she told me she was going to the big city to work. She said she was going to save up for my college tuition and would come back once I graduated.

"Chloe, sweetheart, you have to be a good girl for Grandma."

I clutched the hem of her jacket, tears streaming down my face. "Mom, please don't go."

She wiped my tears away. "Don't be silly. Mom will buy you sweet taffy and pretty floral dresses. Just be good, and I'll be back before you know it."

Grandma stood at the doorway, wiping her eyes with her apron.