As they stood in front of the modest suburban home, which had a calm appeal due to the fading blue paint on the shutters, Winter’s pulse raced. After exchanging anxious looks, one of her two pals, Crisa and Maris, reached out and pressed the doorbell. Winter’s chest constricted as the bell reverberated throughout the home. She had no idea what to anticipate. She could hardly recall her time here, much less the individuals she may encounter. The woman in her late thirties emerged as the door swung open. Her tired eyes grew wide as they met Winter’s, and her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun. Her palm gripped the doorframe as though to steady herself, and her lips parted in a wordless gasp. “Winter.” With tears in her eyes, the woman’s voice broke. Unsure of what to say or do, Winter stood motionless. It was hard to ignore the intensity emanating from the woman, even though her face was unfamiliar. “Mom?” Winter hesitated, the word unfamiliar to her. The woman sprang for
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