the call.
For several minutes I sat alone.
Then Cassandra entered.
She knew immediately.
“It was her?”
I nodded.
“Evelyn.”
Her face changed.
She remembered Evelyn too.
“That woman who used to bring soup when you worked overnight?”
“Yes.”
– ¿Por qué?
I told her.
Everything.
Cassandra listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she sat across from me.
“I thought knowing would feel different.”
– ¿Cómo?
“I thought I’d feel vindicated.”
“Do you?”
– No.
“What do you feel?”
“Sad.”
I understood.
There was no satisfying villain.
Only people making decisions inside broken
