understand.”
“And if you need help in the future, you come to me. You don’t go behind my back and ask my husband to build a second life around your secrets.”
Vanessa nodded.
Then she asked the question I had been dreading.
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?”
I looked at her for a long time.
“I don’t know.”
It was the most honest answer I could give.
She left shortly afterward.
I watched her walk down the front path, feeling neither victorious nor relieved.
My sister was struggling.
