We were packing furiously to leave, because earlier our mother, who was always cold and overprotective at the same time, had vanished.  She left a bitter taste in our mouths anyway.  The plane was leaving soon, and I already knew I was planning to take two suitcases- one within the other.

But I looked on my laptop.

Mother was online.  And, for some reason, I knew that if I asked her questions today, she would not be able to lie.  So I asked her:

"Tell me about where you're from."

She hesitated.  Then the story unfolded.

She typed slowly.  Deliberately.

I'm from Venus, I could see her in my mind's eye looking at me with a keen, unwavering gaze.  She only typed a few words, but I could hear her and see her story in my mind's eye.  I came and was caught up and trapped in a group of prostitutes traveling from another planet towards Earth.  I am originally from . . . the text, on the screen, merely said "I am from the star system of ------ of the -------------- (star system similar to the Pleiades)."

Suddenly everything made sense.  Her quirks.  Our slightly different proclivities and habits.  Her reluctance to talk about her past.  My brother and I understood completely as we gazed at those letters on the screen, hard in their truthfulness.

Then I blinked.  The text was gone, and all that was left was "I am from."  But I didn't need truth.  I didn't need to know.  My heart was satisfied.  Mother was forgiven for the coldness she had shown to me and my brother over the years - after all, she was not even human.

And I was happy.