Eighteen Months Of Happiness
“Lies,” he whimpered. “You two were happy. I know because I was there. I remember it all, Mom.” “You only remember the things we want you to remember. A happy childhood.”
“Happy?” Miles scoffed. “Tell that to the therapist I’ve been seeing for eighteen months!” “Don’t use that tone with me, young man,” his mom snarled, and he found himself sinking into himself.