Her mother wasn't there. Not really. She floated into her life in a bottle, and she floated out the same way. In a bottle.
It broke her heart, when her mother died. She tried to brush it off, act like the man she was somewhat expected to be. But we knew better.
I knew better.
My mother was a little overprotective, though I guess that was to be expected, especially after my dad... well, you know that story.
But Olivia, she took care of her mother, because her mother didn't care enough. She didn't care enough about her daughter to take an addiction and kick it.
I know, it's not as easy as it sounds, but she could have tried.
She was her mother.
She should have tried.