Page 61 of Ranger's Wildflower
Margaret went still.
“I stood outside for almost twenty minutes.”
The memory rose sharp and vivid.
Rain dripping off the porch roof.
My hands shaking.
Cathy’s blood still haunting my clothes.
“I heard voices inside,” I whispered. “Then somebody said my name.”
Margaret’s face paled.
“And everything got quiet.”
The ache in my chest widened.
“I waited anyway.”
A tear slid slowly down my cheek.
“But nobody opened the door.”
The flower shop fell silent except for the low hum of the cooler in the back.
Margaret pressed trembling fingers against her mouth briefly before lowering her hand again.
“You let me believe…” Her voice cracked. “You let all of us believe you killed her.”
“I let everyone believe it.”
“Why?”
Because she asked me to.
Because she was dying.
Because I loved her.
The words tangled painfully in my throat.
“She was scared,” I whispered instead. “And she begged me.”
Margaret’s eyes squeezed shut briefly.
“She was drunk,” she snapped suddenly. “She wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“I know.”
My voice rose before I could stop it.
“But she was dying, and she grabbed my hand and asked me not to tell her parents she’d been drinking, and I—”
Emotion closed hard around my throat.
“I couldn’t say no.”
