Susan took my hand.
“Mark’s death was not your fault. The police told me that the very night it happened. I never blamed you. You were the one who sentenced yourself.”
Tom and Lisa were no longer talking about the house.
One of the officers closed his notebook.
“I don’t see any indication of coercion or exploitation here.”
The officers left.
Tom stopped at the door.
“Susan, we were just worried about you.”
Susan looked at him.
“When you love someone, you worry about them before the day you think their house might end up belonging to somebody else.”
Tom’s face turned red.
Susan continued.
“For five years, none of you had time to visit me. But it took you only three days to find time to bring the police.”
Nobody had an answer.
They left.
That night, for the first time, I walked out of Susan’s bedroom without carrying the weight I had been dragging with me for five years.
