20 | Psychopomp Magazine
I rise unsteadily to my feet, and she breaks into a fragile smile. She unfastens the girdle on her gown, the very same one I wore to my wedding as a girl, and loops it around my neck. I hold my head high, and she leads me into the city, back where I began. My daughter, my guardian. Once upon a time, I thought my place would be elsewhere. ♦