“And I didn’t make you tell the police I was driving.”
“Please don’t hate me.”
Cerré los ojos.
“No sé lo que siento ahora”.
That was the truth.
I was furious.
I was heartbroken.
I was frightened for the injured girl.
And I was grieving the sister I’d spent so many years trying to love.
But I didn’t want hatred to make my decisions.
I wanted the truth to make them.
“Kenzie, you need to tell your attorney exactly what happened. And you need to stop letting Mom speak for you.”
Ella lloró de nuevo.
Luego susurró: “Ojalá pudiera volver”.
“Yo también”.
Terminé la llamada.
Mi marido se acercó.
“Are you okay?”
“No”.
Me tomó la mano.
“¿Qué pasó?”
I told him.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he looked toward the nursery.
“Then we keep protecting our family.”
Yo asentí.
That evening, I documented the call from memory while it was still fresh.
