AN: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and is continuing to read my story. Sorry for the wait, when I transferred everything to Docs all the formatting got messed up, so I had to spend some time going through it. As a result, I have fixed spelling and grammar in previous chapters. I've also stopped italicizing German words and flashbacks, and longer thoughts are their own paragraph. I think the line and the date change is enough to show a flashback, but let me know if it's not as easily discernible.

If anyone is curious as to why I've been using specific dates, I am in fact using the actual calendar from 1944. I think it helps me keep better track of the timeline of my story. In the future, if some dates aren't as specific, then the date is most likely irrelevant... or I forgot to write the date. In that case, oops.

Also, I've decided to add a couple of days between Maria's return to the villa and the gazebo incident.

*Kuschelbär literally means "cuddle bear" in German*


September 11, 1943

Salzburg, Austria

Mothering was difficult.

So.

Very.

Difficult.

A sigh escaped Maria's lips as she raised the knife to her daughter's slice of whole wheat toast, slathering it with butter.

"Rosie, darling, your lunch is ready," she called. Lunch was going to be a somber affair, seeing as Maria was still in a horrible mood from her encounter the day before, and Heidi was out of town. The sight of her daughter scampering into the room brought a smile to her face. Rosmarie was clutching a well-loved stuffed bear – a gift from the Reverend Mother when she was born. Despite only being a few years old, the bear was missing fur in numerous places, and one of its eyes was hanging on by a thread. "Darling, why didn't you tell me that Kuschelbär needed to be fixed?" Rosmarie pouted, her face not unlike that of Gretl's all those years ago.

"Kuschelbär looks good to me, Mother," Rosmarie said, absently stroking the bear's face. Maria walked around the kitchen table, kneeling in front of her daughter.

"Darling, Kuschelbär's eye is hanging out. Don't you think Kuschelbär would want to see your beautiful face?" Maria gave her daughter's cheek a tug, and Rosmarie giggled in response.

"But I don't want to go to bed without Kuschelbär."

"I promise you, it'll only be one night. Then Kuschelbär will sleep with you forever and ever." Maria reached for the sad-looking bear. Rosmarie stepped back, holding the bear flush against her chest.

"No."

"Darling, please. If Kuschelbär starts looking any worse, I might not be able to fix him." Maria tried reaching for the bear again. She was once again met with resistance from her stubborn daughter. Rosmarie lifted the bear's mouth to her ear, his droopy eye swinging the whole time.

"Kuschelbär says no."

"Well I'm quite sure Kuschelbär doesn't know what he looks like." Rosmarie glared at her mother, her eyes darkening. Oh no. It was a similar form of rage Maria recognized in only one other person – The Captain. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the display of anger her daughter was about to perform.

"Kuschelbär is not ugly and he doesn't need anything from you!" Rosmarie cried, petulantly stomping her foot for emphasis.

"I did not say that Kuschelbär was ugly. I just think Kuschelbär just needs some help." Maria cringed, knowing she most definitely overstepped her daughter's finicky boundaries. Rosmarie's foul mood and, lately, frequent argumentative outbursts, turned Maria's offers of help into death sentences. She watched as her daughter inwardly fought against her own anger. This time, anger had won, and her rage and frustrations were released by pummeling the offending object at her mother's head. The bear bounced off her face and fell to the ground, his little plastic eye hitting the door with a barely perceptible clatter. Rosmarie's behavior was incredibly concerning to Maria. There was no way she had such strong feelings towards Kuschelbär.

There must be something else upsetting her.

Maria slowly raised her eyes from the bear's dreadful eye to her daughter's guilty expression. Rosmarie's eyes were wide, and her lip was trembling. The fingers on her left hand were twitching, drumming against her leg with a chaotic rhythm. Maria reached forward and grabbed her daughter's small hand, stilling her restless fingers. She knew she should scold Rosmarie for her atrocious behavior, but she also realized that something was deeply troubling her. She pulled Rosmarie in for a hug and felt her trembling breaths against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to."

"Darling, we need to work on better ways to deal with frustration and anger. It is not appropriate to throw anything at anyone." Her daughter lifted her head from her shoulder, furiously wiping at her eyes. Maria reached up, swiping away the tear rolling down her cheek. "I'm not sure what's upsetting you. I need you to help me so that I can help you." Rosmarie picked up Kuschelbär and handed him to her mother.

"Can you fix him, Mother?"

Clever, diverting my attention away from the subject.

"Not unless you tell me what's really bothering you," she answered. Rosmarie's eyes shifted from the bear to her mother, weighing her options.

"Today in art class we drew our families," Rosmarie quietly said. "My picture was the only one without a father." Maria was instantly brought back to her previous conversation with Heidi. "Mother, I know you tell me small things about him, but could you really tellme about Father?" Maria's throat tightened. She had already informed her daughter that sometimes, a relationship just doesn't work out between two adults, and that's why her father didn't live with them. But this was the first time Rosmarie outright asked about her father. Most times, Maria would just make small comments about him, and that would satisfy her.

"Your father would love your sudden interest in sailboats! He used to be a naval captain!"

"I'm not much of a swimmer myself. Your father, though…"

"Hmm… Do you like listening to classical music now? Your father loves classical music."

"As much as I would love having a cat or dog, I'm afraid we can't have one here. Gotte is allergic, and I can't afford to keep up with one… Your father wouldn't allow one either, so don't suggest moving in with him to get one!"

Where to begin?

Well, the beginning is a very good place to start...

"Of course," Maria said, pulling out the kitchen chair and taking a seat. Rosmarie mirrored her mother, placing Kuschelbär in the chair next to her, his floppy body tilting precariously to the side. "Your father is a very good man. Stubborn and sometimes difficult to deal with, but a good man. He, um, has a nice big house with a ballroom and a lake in the backyard." Maria decided against mentioning the children, knowing her daughter would beg to meet her siblings. Guilt crept its way into Maria's mind.

I'm hiding my daughter's only family from her because I'm a coward.

Maria snapped out of her reverie at the sound of Kuschelbär flopping to the seat of the chair. The measly amount of stuffing left in his body had lost its valiant fight against gravity. The bear's sad and stringy grimace was similar to Maria's own uncomfortable smile. His beady black eye, through all of its scratches from years of love, managed to display Maria's harrowing reflection. She gulped, feeling quite like Kuschelbär in her current situation. Rosmarie ignored the bear completely, too focused on the subject of her elusive and mysterious father.

"A ballroom, Mother? Like those big pretty rooms in palaces and castles? Did you dance there? Did you dance with Father?" Rosmarie's curious and eager eyes met her mother's.

"Yes, a lovely ballroom filled with the sound of music." Maria spoke without tearing her eyes away from the bear. "I danced with your Father… Only once." Memories of dancing the Ländler flooded her brain. Closing her eyes, she saw them twirling. She could feel how her cheeks flushed when she told him, "I don't remember anymore." She could hear Brigitta's remark of "Your face is all red." She could see Liesl watching her out of the corner of her eye, her questioning eyes flickering between her governess and her father.

"Mother? What does he look like?"

"Hmm?" Maria looked up at her daughter, who was now looking at her worriedly.

"Father. What does he look like?"

"Oh, well, umm... He has dark hair, and sometimes it curls up, just like yours. He has blue eyes, and he's definitely taller than me."

"What is he like?" Maria's eyes traitorously wandered to her daughter's cadaverous stuffed bear. Kuschelbär had spent the last moment or two slowly sliding to the edge of the chair. His lifeless arm was hanging over the edge, as if reaching for a second chance at life. Alas, the cold floor welcomed him eagerly, and his battered body slid off the chair. Maria had anxiously been eyeing the bear, and she suddenly wondered if she was going insane.

Why am I seeing myself in my daughter's stuffed bear?

Kuschelbär's face morphed into her own, her face contorted in a grimace of pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. The chair beside her daughter suddenly morphed into the Captain's sweaty body, all muscled arms and legs trapping her beneath him. Oh God. She suddenly felt sick. No regrets, no regrets, no regrets...

"Mother? Are you okay?" Rosmarie reached across the table, grabbing her mother's hand. Maria blinked, and the chair and Kuschelbär's face were back to normal.

"I'm fine, darling," she responded. But her daughter had already followed her line of sight. Rosmarie picked up Kuschelbär and was scanning the floor with worried eyes.

"Are you sure, Mother? Was there something on the floor? You looked really scared." Rosmarie went to place Kuschelbär back on the seat next to her, but the chair had turned into the Captain, his naked legs spread, welcoming Kuschelbär – who once again claimed Maria's face as his own – into his lap. Maria's eyes widened as she gasped, hastily reaching across the table and snatching Kuschelbär from her daughter's grasp. Rosmarie's narrowed eyes flickered to hers.

"Nope, that's okay. I'll just hold on to Kuschelbär for now. I have to fix him, anyways." Maria held Kuschelbär with a bone-crushing grip, his body sagging in her arms.

"Mother! You're hurting Kuschelbär!"

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry!" She released her hold on the bear a bit. "Anyways, you asked about what your father was like?" Rosmarie nodded.

"Umm..." Suddenly Maria realized that she had little to no positive experiences with the Captain, save for the few times they played with the children and danced at the ball. While they had been forming some sort of "friendship" before the incident, it was awkward and very sexually charged. With each step forward, there were multiple steps back. And there was that one incident…


August 1937

34 Aigen

The children wasted no time welcoming back their governess. The day after her return, they spent most of the afternoon lying in the grass and watching the clouds as they floated by. Maria was wearing a lovely yellow dress Liesl had lent her. At the time, Maria didn't quite catch what Liesl was implying when she kept telling her how much it brought out her hair and eyes. It soon became obvious that Liesl had some matchmaking plans of her own going on.

Maria laid in the grass with her arms beneath her head, entertaining the incessant exclamations from Gretl.

"Fräulein Maria, look! That one looks like a puppy!" Gretl exclaimed. Marta flopped to the ground next to her sister, squinting as she followed her sister's finger to the sky.

"I don't see the puppy, Gretl. Which cloud is it?"

"The really big one in the middle!"

"There are so many big clouds!"

"No, it's the biggest one!"

"There is no biggest one! They're all very big!"

"Okay, okay, it's just a cloud, girls," Maria spoke quietly, wanting to enforce some sense of tranquility. Marta and Gretl soon fell silent, smiling as they watched the clouds shift from puppies to hearts and kittens to butterflies. Maria swallowed, and upon noticing how dry her throat was, excused herself from the trio. "I'm going to grab a drink. I trust you two can stay here?" The girls nodded, waving to their governess' retreating form.

As Maria reached the bottom of the steps, she turned around to face her charges. Marta and Gretl stayed true to their word, lying on their backs and giggling at something one of them said. Brigitta was curled up under her favorite tree by the lake, a book in her hands. Louisa was sitting with Liesl, and their painted toes were just barely in the water. The boys were further away, tossing a ball back and forth and occasionally stopping to rest. Maria sighed, noting how comfortable the entire experience felt to her. She felt entirely at peace, as if she were a mother lovingly watching her children. She absently placed a hand upon her chest and tears formed in her eyes.

Soon, I'm going to have to say goodbye and mean it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" a deep voice murmured beside her. Maria squeaked in surprise, quickly blinking the tears away. She swung around, realizing all too late that it had been a mistake. She was not prepared to face the Captain in the state he was in. His jacket and tie were nowhere to be found. His pale green shirt was wrinkled, the top buttons were undone, and his hair was ruffled by the breeze. Against her better judgment, her eyes trailed down to his pants. Oh God. He was wearing casual brown slacks. However, it was quite obvious they had not been worn in a while. Unfortunately, they were very tight (or was it just her imagination?) in a very unfortunate (or very fortunate?) place. She gulped as she took in the bulge in front of her. She couldn't decide if she was seeing things, or if what she thought was happening was really happening. Suddenly, the most appalling thought formed in her mind:

Touch it.

The urge to reach out and touch it was dominating every other thought in her mind.

Why do I want to just carefully tap it with my finger? No, no, I want to feel it. That would require more than just a finger.

She was not totally innocent to some aspects of love and sex, having spent time in both public primary and secondary school. Learning about sex in school is one thing, but being faced with it is another. In fact, she didn't think she could even say the word "penis" out loud without turning red.

What does it look like? Would it be… soft? Would it be… hard? Would it start out soft and then become hard as I touched it? Would he even have a reaction? Do men have reactions like that towards women they're not interested in? Do men–

The Captain's throat clearing brought Maria back to reality. Her wide eyes locked with his, and she was sure her face was on fire. His eyes too were wide, a spark of a question forming in them. She spoke before he had the chance to verbalize whatever was going through his head.

"Ah, your slacks," she said.

Oh dear, that was awful! Could I have picked a worse thing to comment on? Now I'm drawing more attention to them!

The Captain frowned, not quite understanding. He briefly looked down at his pants, and Maria wondered if he also saw the (possibly imaginary) bulge.

"Ah yes, my casual slacks. I have not worn these in a long time. As such, I do believe they're a bit… tight," he spoke, his eyes dragging up her body to meet hers.

Oh God, he definitely knows what I was looking at, and now I know it wasn't my imagination.

Suddenly, his eyes became verydark.

Have they always been that shade of blue?

He remained unblinking, like a reptile, watching Maria's face intently. Her face continued to burn at the thought of the both of them thinking about his possible erection. She had completely forgotten about her parched throat, and her mind absolutely refused to focus on anything else. She had no idea what to say, and she had a funny feeling that until one of them spoke, they would be standing like this for a very long time.

What is happening to me? I just left the novitiate, and I'm already acting like a fool in front of my employer! Not only is he my employer, but he's to be married!

His unblinking gaze bore into hers, and she couldn't take it anymore. Of course, she chose the absolute worst direction to look in – down. His bulge was directly in front of her, and it almost seemed bigger. It certainly was not imaginary. She was loath to admit it, but this entire situation was incredibly arousing to her. Her rebellious imagination formed a picture of his erection straining out to meet her virginal womanhood. She felt absolutely disgusted with herself. She gulped, knowing that she should look away. It was like a car crash – she just couldn't stop looking at it. She wondered just how long she'd been staring at it for. More importantly, she wondered why he hadn't said anything about it yet!

Is this real life? Is he going to just let me stare… there? Why isn't he disgusted and angered with me for looking at it for so long? Have I actually been looking at it for as long as I think I have?

"Maria," he spoke quietly.

Where did "Fräulein" go?

"Yes?" she questioned, her soft voice like music to his ears. She had no idea just how much of an effect her voice had on him. As she spoke, she noticed the slightest of twitches in… that area. She felt his hand meet her own that was resting on her chest. The warmth and feeling of it made her ache for more. Her eyes slowly left his lower half and traveled up his body.

So soft, and yet, so strong.

She watched as the dark hairs on his arm flickered in the breeze. Her eyes trailed up the rest of his arm until she was watching his chest rise and fall.

Is he breathing heavier, or am I imagining that now, too?

Her eyes continued their journey up his neck and face until she met his stormy eyes. He wrapped his fingers around her hand, bringing it down to her side before dropping it. The sudden loss of contact hurt. She wanted to grab his hand and place it on her chest again. He cleared his throat before he spoke carefully and quietly.

"Stop looking at it." Her eyes were about as wide as he had ever seen them. He watched as redness blossomed on the porcelain skin of her face. She shook her head vehemently.

I think I want to die now, she thought.

"Oh no! No, no! I wasn't looking, I swear! I–" In a flash, he held a finger to her lips. She wondered if he heard the small whimper that escaped her lips. His finger on one of her most sensitive areas was nearly sending her overboard. Her eyes flicked down to his finger, and then back up to his face, where not a single emotion was displayed. He slowly removed his finger from her lips, and she did not miss him rubbing his fingers together afterward.

"Fräulein. Yes, you were. Erm, for a very long time. Do not be ashamed of it. I'm flattered."

"E-Excuse me?!" Maria had no clue how this entire situation got so out of hand so fast, and she desperately wanted to run away and hide… for a very long time.

"Do not pretend you are unaware of the fact that you're beautiful, Maria. I just so happen to be very attracted to beautiful women." Maria was mortified. To be quite honest, she felt like she was about to throw up.

This entire situation is so wildly inappropriate! I'm his employee! He's getting married!

"Captain, honestly, we really shouldn't even speak about it. Perhaps we can just move on and forget that–"

"Maria, if I thought we shouldn't talk about it, I wouldn't have mentioned it."

"Captain, the Baroness?! Have you forgotten?!" Maria frustratedly sighed again, moving her fingers to her hair. She frantically ran her fingers through it; a futile attempt to release the sexual energy that had built up inside of her. As she did so, she noticed yet another twitch in his groin. As… it twitched, his eyes slammed shut, and a small noise escaped his lips. He quickly reached for the hand that was buried in her hair and shoved down to her side.

"What–"

"Don't do that, please, Maria." She stared at him for a few moments, having no clue what to do in this sort of situation. The faint sound of Kurt's laughter brought Maria back to reality.

The children!

She whirled around, suddenly remembering the fact that they were surrounded by seven children who could have easily watched this entire exchange.

"The children, I–" The Captain interrupted her by placing his warm hand on her side, forcing her to turn and face him.

"Maria, I have been peeking at them every so often. They're all by the lake, and I doubt they care or have noticed." Maria knew it was fruitless to try and find another way out of the situation. She nodded, deciding that if she humored him now, he may never mention this again. But, her newfound confidence checked out when he took a step closer.

Oh God, I'm not brave enough for this. No, no, no!

"Okay! That's enough! Wow, it sure is warm out today. Are you thirsty? I'm thirsty. I'm going to get a drink." The words tumbled out of Maria's mouth, and before she knew it, she was running away again. She clumsily sprinted up the rest of the steps, acutely aware of the fact that his eyes were burning holes into the back of her dress. She sprinted inside the house, only to crash right into Max.

"My goodness! And where are we going in such a hurry, my dear Fräulein? I do hope you're not running away again." He took in her flushed cheeks and safely assumed she had just been running around with the children.

"Umm… water. I need water," she said, breezing past him and making her way into the kitchen. She hastily poured herself a glass of water and flopped against the wall, sliding down until she hit the floor. As she brought the glass to her lips, she was reminded of the feeling of his finger there. Her heart began to race beneath her dress. Suddenly, she realized that it wasn't even safe to drink water anymore.

Oh my, what have I done?


At dinner later that night, Maria found herself disappointed when the Captain entered the room in a more appropriate pair of pants. When his darkened eyes caught hers, she wondered if the bulge was back, hiding just beneath the fabric of his pants.


Present

"Mother?" Rosmarie's little voice tore Maria away from the foul memory she found herself reliving.

"Yes darling, I'm so sorry. I'm actually feeling a bit tired. How about we continue this conversation another day?" Her daughter frowned. She was eager to learn more about her father, but she recognized that her mother was in a mood that she shouldn't mess with. She glanced at her unfortunate-looking bear hanging on for dear life in her mother's arms.

"You can fix him, right?"

"Yes! Of course! It may take a day or two though, darling." Rosmarie nodded, accepting her mother's answer. She gave her mother a quick hug and ran off to her room.

Maria found herself alone with Kuschelbär. His face, damaged by love and time, stared back at her. She toyed with his hanging eye, thinking about what he once looked like.


June 1938

Nonnberg Abbey

With weary eyes, Maria sat in the chair across from her baby. She rubbed at the bags under her eyes, willing them to disappear forever. Through the bars on her daughter's cot, she watched Rosmarie's tiny foot move around. Her precious little toes – five on each foot; she had counted at least a dozen times – curled and uncurled, testing her plantar grasp reflex. Maria, with her chin in her hands, watched as her 3-week-old took in the world with blurry eyes – not that there was much to see in the guest room of the abbey, however. Rosmarie's tiny eyes settled upon her mother's form. While Maria knew that there was no way her daughter could even see her from that far away, she smiled and softly waved anyway. Rosmarie yawned before closing her eyes, and exhaustion overtook her small body. And so began Maria's nightly habit of sitting awake and watching her daughter sleep. She was beyond overtired – she knew that much. But some fierce and protective maternal instinct had taken over the day Rosmarie was born. Like a repetitive nightmare, that instinct kept her up all night watching over her baby girl like a hawk. She often wondered how different things would be if he was here with them.

Would we take turns watching the baby? Who would rock her to sleep? Would we take turns bathing and clothing her? How did he manage to do this seven times over?!

Seemingly, out of nowhere, Maria began to cry. Her thoughts had, unfortunately, drifted to the seven von Trapp children that she had carelessly abandoned – not once, but twice.

I am a horrible mother.

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she imagined every possible reaction the children might've had. She slammed her eyes shut at the idea of them crying because of her. Then, a truly horrifying thought struck her:

My God, there are eight von Trapp children now.

Maria felt sick. When she finally opened her eyes, something caught her eye. The stuffed bear that had been gifted to her daughter sat on the floor, his frame supported by the legs of the cot. His watchful beady eyes glinted in the moonlight, and there was a hint of a smile on his face.

It's as if he's telling me that everything is going to be okay.

Nonverbally communicating with a stuffed animal had not been something she imagined she'd ever do. She knew she should tell herself that it was the exhaustion speaking, but lately, it felt as though her life had become some sort of dreamscape. The moon's eerie glow reflecting off of the bear's eye didn't help either. As though it truly were a dream, the bear actually moved. She watched with wide eyes as the bear toppled over, his fuzzy brown body coming in contact with the worn wooden floors of the guest house. Logically, it would be safe to assume that because the window was open, the breeze knocked the bear over. However, Maria's fragile and exhausted state of mind caused her to sit there in shock, her face white as snow. Suddenly, like clockwork, her maternal instinct was firing up like the engine of a car. She leaped from the chair and flung herself to the side of her daughter's cot, checking on her. She watched, amazed, as her baby slept like, well, a baby. She stroked the fine dark hairs on her daughter's head, taking in her dainty again, she counted the fingers and toes in front of her. With a sigh, she decided that Rosmarie was okay, and she would check on her again in five minutes.

In her dreamlike trance, she took a wobbly step back, nearly toppling backward. The bear at the foot of the cot caught her attention again. Suddenly, she remembered that he had moved moments ago. With a gasp, she fled the room, tearing off down the hall. She ran as fast as her sore feet could take her. The stone walls of the abbey seemed to twist and turn around her, and she felt like she was sprinting through a dark tunnel in a funhouse. Unfortunately, the abbey walls bested her this time. She collided with the wall, rough stone meeting skin. She slid to the floor, cradling her arm. A hiss escaped her lips as she briefly touched the mark on her elbow. The fragile skin there had been torn off, revealing a layer of angry, red flesh. Blood slowly trickled down her arm and landed on the floor with soft drops. She couldn't tell if there was as much blood as she was seeing. Like a river, the red streak flowed down her arm, staining her skin crimson. She sat in the dark, feeling faint and weightless. She felt like she could reach for the sky and float up to the heavens. With heavy limbs she reached towards the ceiling, her fingers grasping at nothing. The sound of running footsteps sent her arm tumbling back down to her side.

"Maria? My goodness, what happened here?!" Sister Margaretta knelt by Maria's side, her lamp swinging wildly. The effervescent blue of her irises had faded to a grey. The skin surrounding said eyes was a mix between maroon and dark purple. Her skin was pale and clammy, and she was cradling her arm most unusually. Sister Margaretta yanked her hand off of her elbow, gasping as Maria's sticky blood coated her hand. Maria's head lolled to the side, banging against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "The bear in my room… He was moving… I came to get help…" Sister Margaretta stared at her as though she'd gone insane.

"The bear…? Your room…?" She paused, thinking for a moment. Of course! The stuffed bear! "Maria, are you talking about Kuschelbär?"

"Kuschelbär! Of course!" Maria slurred, horrendously butchering the toy's name.

"Maria, I think you're hallucinating. Have you been sleeping? When was the last time you slept through the night?" Maria's silence spoke volumes. Sister Margaretta nodded with an air of finality, pulling Maria up from the floor. She wrapped an arm around her and dragged her back to the guest room. There, she noted that Rosmarie was sound asleep, the window was open, and Kuschelbär was lying on his side by the cot. "See? The window is open. The wind must have caused him to fall over. Now, we need to clean up your arm, and then you are going to sleep for a very long time."

"But I–"

"No, Maria. I will keep an eye on her tomorrow. You need to sleep."

"But I have to feed her, how will she–"

"Maria, I will take care of her." Sister Margaretta's rarely used serious tone emerged, and Maria knew she meant business.

And so Maria watched as Sister Margaretta gently cleaned her elbow. She allowed her to help her into a nightgown and tuck her into bed.

"Let God watch over her tonight, Maria. Sleep well."


AN: This was really more of a filler chapter. Honestly, I really struggled with this one. I just wanted to write a bit more about Maria's struggles and her relationship with her daughter. The next chapter should be out soon! I think I've explored most of the flashback scenes, so from here on should be mostly set in the present. There might be a few more flashbacks, but they won't be as long. Thank you all for reading!