E.L. Williams

A Mother's Inheritance

Michelle couldn't stop crying. How long had it been since the funeral? She hadn’t showered, and only got out of bed when absolutely necessary. People came to check on her, gave her food and kind words, though she didn’t say anything to any of them. Her phone was dead. The curtains remained drawn. Her only child, just barely older than she was when she became pregnant with him, was dead. For the past twenty-two years it had been just the two of them and now it was just her. Someone knocked on her bedroom door.