A Sister Would Know. C.J. Carmichael
call her Mom, which was what she was, after all.
More than Helena, that was for sure. A mother wasn’t someone who wrote a letter or sent a present sometimes, only when she felt like it. And always something the wrong size or a toy he wasn’t interested in.
Some nights he made up stories to get himself to sleep. He imagined his aunt coming into his room and explaining that it was all a mistake. She really was his mother, and that woman who wrote the letters and stuff was his aunt.
Only it wasn’t that way.
Helena was his mother and now she was dead, and he didn’t even care.
Davin stared up at the ceiling, remembering his aunt calling him to their kitchen in Toronto to tell him about the avalanche, to explain that they had to drive to Rogers Pass.
At first he’d been excited. They were going on a trip, and he was going to miss school. It had seemed like an adventure, setting out to find where his mother had lived and what she’d been like.
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