And as I remained silent, everyone decided I was guilty.
For years, the people refused to forget what Adrian had said.
Every look reminded me that morning. Every whisper plunged me even deeper into shame.
At twenty-one, I finally left.
I prepared a suitcase, hid my savings inside my coat and boarded a bus heading to the city before dawn.
There I found work in a small bakery owned by an older woman named Rosa Bennett. Rosa was strict, but kind. He taught me how to make bread, decorate cakes, handle the cash register and talk to customers without looking down.
For the first time in many years, no one knew my past.
