The secret life of Kim Anderson

Previously

…The girls around Kimberly dissolved into sobs, their grief raw and unrestrained. But Kimberly remained still. The tears that should have streamed down her face were trapped behind the dam she had built so long ago. She had become so accustomed to the cacophony of sorrow and anger, to the constant barrage of pain, that her own emotions had been drowned out, silenced by the sheer volume of it all. She was a silent observer, even in the face of her own mother’s potential demise. The thread of her life, so carefully woven through a tapestry of tragedy, was beginning to fray, its vibrant colors fading into a muted, resilient grey. The adventure, it seemed, was far from over.