Her eyes doled out painful drops of water, and then she let loose a flood. Mother's adult morals still wanted to eradicate the sick alter-ego that cla...med her life once a week. Although her mind had made a truce with itself, that truce was dependent upon the right day. My birthday hadn't occurred on a Saturday."Honey, please try to forget about her. Today was the first time I let myself be like her without being her. I know we can let her go, if only you'll help me."If my mother had been. Am?lie would be pissed. She would have to take time off work to comeand get me. Plus, this would give the social worker more evidence toargue that Am?lie was raising an unruly child. I was pissed too though.I sat in one of the naughty chairs, glowering at anyone who happened tolock eyes with me, including one of the secretaries who reminded me ofmy dear departed grandmother. The woman, Madame Hillier, gave me afresh-baked chocolate chip cookie the first time I sat in one of thesechairs after my. More

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