Chapter 1

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Hannah stared out the fifth-floor window. A great deal of people were starting to fill the street below. The annual Strawberry fest was in full swing. A little girl with pig tails and bright copper hair was dancing in and out of all the town goers. Some were tried and true Long Grove residents and some made the hour's drive from Chicago. She was waving her bright blue cotton candy with excitement. A butterfly painted across her face. Tears fill Hannah's eyes as if all her life's what ifs were flashing through her mind. There was a time in her life when it was as simple as waving blue cotton candy in the air. A time when joy was a regular feeling. Joy is now an unknown emotion she hasn't felt since her world came to an unbelievable stop.

​Taking shallow breaths, she turns to face the now empty nursery. Unknowingly nipping at her already over picked thumb nail. She stares at the vast openness that once was full of giggles and uncertainty of the new phase of her life she had entered into. Now it is full of nothingness and sorrow. She silently thought as she turned one last time facing the bay window.

"She would've loved the Strawberry Fest." Said a painfully familiar voice.
Hannah turns to face her overly dressed mother. Why she wore a full pleated black pant suit in the middle of June was beyond Hannah. Her mother stood there looking at her with an emotionless face from the sun lit doorway. Emotions and Vivian Jones were not one in the same. Of course not. Vivian was as hard as Stone and had never shown anything but that grit to everyone around her. Hannah included. She gave a forced smile. "Tom talked about it all the time. You know?" Her mother walked deeper into the room arms crossing over her very expensive chest. "He would just light up talking about taking her to get her face painted one day and having her cheer him on during the pie eating contest.".

Hannah caught a laugh in her throat. Her mother didn't know anything about Tom or what he wanted for their daughter. She had not seen or spoken to her mother since she flew back home for her father's funeral when Hannah very publicly yelled at her during the viewing for not even crying over his death. Death seemed to surround her. However, the toll of losing father compared to losing her husband and six-month-old daughter were not even in the same ball park of the emotional weight pushing her down.

Talking about them in past tense had yet to become real for her. She could feel the bulk of the truth pulling her under. She stood there staring at the newly polished wood floor. Trying to practice the breathing technique she taught all her clients. Unfortunately, they have not been as useful at preventing her anxiety from taking control since Tom and Georgia's accident. This one was more controlled. Having a mental breakdown in front of her mother would be seen as unacceptable. She learned the hard way as a child that emotions were useless things given to her to make her weak.

Breath in, hold, one, two, three, four, five.

"Hannah?" Vivian stood inches away snapping aggressively in her face. Interpreting her breathing. "Hannah, you cannot fall apart. You will not let this break you. You are a Jones. Well you were a Jones. Act like one. The car is outside. We are leaving in ten minutes." With that Vivian turned on her glossy black stilettos and vanished through the doorway. Hannah heard the clicking followed by an aggressive door slamming.
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Vivian can be a real B!

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