Motherless daughter

Previously

…One Tuesday, a week later, instead of retreating into the familiar comfort of her apartment, Sarah found herself standing outside the community center. The flyer was clutched in her hand, its edges softened from repeated folding. She took a deep breath, the cool autumn air filling her lungs. She was still afraid. She still felt utterly alone. But she was here. Her feet had carried her to this place, a place where perhaps, just perhaps, she might find a less solitary way to navigate the vast and uncharted territory of her grief. The door beckoned, and with a hesitant hand, Sarah reached for the handle.