Leah didn’t say anything.
For her, being speechless
was not her natural state, yet my story had paralyzed her tongue.
Not that I was expecting
her to throw out a sarcastic remark.
I told her how I had
blamed myself for years after Cherish had died.
I was the one who had
stood up to him. She had been the one to pay.
I still blame myself, and
a part of me wondered if Cherish blamed me, too.
“Who else knows about
this?”
Leah’s second question
was one I had been dreading even more than the first.
No one.
I had never told anyone
about the guilt I had been carrying inside of me for the past 15 years.
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