Mama Fiona Confession -

“Elena loved you more than anything. But she was sick—not in her body, but in her mind. After you were born, something broke. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop crying. She thought you would be better off without her. One night, she walked into the sea.”

Fiona took a long breath, the kind you take before a plunge into icy water. “Elena was not your sister. She was your mother.” mama fiona confession

“I’m sad,” Rosa admitted. “Sad for Elena. Sad that she suffered. But angry? No.” She squeezed Fiona’s hand. “You kept a promise. You gave me a life. And you carried this alone for thirty years. That’s not a sin, Mama. That’s love.” “Elena loved you more than anything

“Yes.”

“I am,” Fiona said, finally turning. Her face was wet, rain or tears, Rosa couldn’t tell. “But not by blood. Elena was seventeen when she had you. She was my daughter, Rosa. My only child. And she was so young, so scared. The father had vanished the moment he knew.” She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop crying

Fiona nodded slowly. “I did it for her. And then, very quickly, I did it for you. Because you became my daughter in every way that mattered. I forgot, sometimes, that you weren’t mine by blood. And then I would remember, and the guilt would eat another piece of my heart.”

For the first time that day, the sun broke through the clouds, slanting gold across the graves. Fiona leaned her head on Rosa’s shoulder.