“Él los hizo”.
“You agreed to it.”
“Yes,” I said. “I carried out my husband’s final wish.”
Her eyes filled.
“At least you’re finally being honest.”
My pulse pounded.
I could have defended myself.
I could have told everyone exactly what Mark had said on the porch.
I could have described the conversations, the paperwork, his insistence.
En cambio, dije: “No estamos haciendo esto aquí”.
– ¿Porque no puedes?
“Porque se supone que este día es sobre Mark”.
Me alejé.
I thought refusing to fight was an act of kindness.
By the end of the evening, I realized my silence had created room for suspicion.
Mark’s aunt approached me near the door.
“Sally, can I ask you something?”
Ya sabía que no me gustaría la pregunta.
– ¿Qué?
“¿Mark estaba tomando medicamentos cerca del final que podrían haber afectado su juicio?”
La miré.
“Excuse me?”
