C39 ICE THIRTY-NINE: THE CONFESSION.

THANE'S POV:

Growing up, my mother had been a perfectionist who'd vacuum the same room twice and organize her spice rack alphabetically and by expiration date. I'd inherited that need for order, that physical discomfort when things were chaotic.

"This is insane," I muttered, but I was already moving. "She's sick, not dead. She'll understand."

I started in the living room