Those words hollowed me out.
Emily would never leave with a stranger unless she felt abandoned, frightened, or utterly alone. The guilt pressed on my chest until breathing felt like work.
More footage followed. Emily sat on a bench near one of the mall exits, shoulders slumped, eyes swollen from crying. The man approached slowly, kept his distance, crouched down so he wasn’t towering over her. He spoke. She shook her head. He waited. Then she nodded.
And stood up.
When the screen went dark, I realized my mother had gone pale for the first time since this began. Even then, she muttered, “She still should have known better.”
That was the moment I stopped seeing her as my mother.
Leave a Comment