Page 13 of Ranger's Wildflower

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“I wasn’t driving.”

Rain hammered against the kitchen windows hard enough to rattle the glass.

My hands shook so badly I could barely hold onto the edge of the table.

Across from me, my mother crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“Tessa—”

“No.” My voice cracked. “Mom, listen to me. Cathy was driving. She lost control and—”

“You confessed.”

The words hit like a slap.

I stared at her.

“She asked me to,” I whispered. “She was dying. She didn’t want her parents to—”

“Stop.”

I flinched so hard my shoulder clipped the counter behind me.

My mother’s face looked pale.

Exhausted.

But not confused.

Not uncertain.

She thought I was lying.

“I raised you better than this,” she said quietly.

The ache in my chest split wider.

“I’m telling the truth.”

“You signed the statement.”

Because Cathy begged me to.

Because blood was everywhere.

Because she was crying.

Because I promised.

My throat burned.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

My mother shook her head slowly, disappointment settling over her features like something permanent.

And somehow that hurt more than yelling would have.

“This accident already destroyed enough lives,” she said softly. “Don’t make yourself into someone you’re not too.”

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