Chapter 10: Carrying Angie
“I told you all to stay away.”
The dark-haired boy nodded.
“Yeah.”
“And you still did this.”
He looked at me with a face far older than any teenager should have.
“Angie was our friend.”
That broke something open in me.
I had blamed them because I needed somewhere to put pain that had nowhere else to go.
Meanwhile, these children had been carrying Angie too.
Just quietly.
Just differently.
And then my mind went back to the first time Benji came home to us.
Angie was nine.
My husband, Peter, found him at a roadside adoption event and came back to the car holding a floppy-eared golden puppy while Angie screamed so loudly that strangers turned to laugh.
“We’re just looking,” I told him.
Peter smiled and handed Angie the leash.
“We already looked.” Continue Reading ⬇️
