Chapter 2: Blue Lights
When I arrived, blue lights flashed against the wet pavement.
Angie’s bicycle lay twisted near the curb, and her friends stood nearby, pale and shaking.
One boy kept saying, “We tried. We’re sorry… we tried.”
I got out of the car and dropped to my knees as they carried my daughter toward the ambulance.
Some broken, desperate part of me still believed that if I stayed close enough, the world might change its mind.
The next day, her friends came to my door with flowers and swollen eyes.
I looked at them and saw the last people who had heard my daughter’s voice.
“Don’t come back,” I told them. “You’ve already done everything you could.”
Some buried part of me knew they didn’t deserve that.
But grief needed somewhere to go, and I aimed mine at them. Continue Reading ⬇️
