It was the therapy, not the move that weaned Amy Dillard off the pills.
She looked out her bedroom window to mountains, (foothills and a small valley, actually), and it was better than looking at and smelling the dumpster of a seafood chain.
Sarah Dillard coddled her daughter now, as though the move to the country had been much more beneficial for her than Amy.
Amy was cool with that, too.
Whatever, but whatever in the best way.
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