“Where have you been?”
“What did you do?”
“I spoke to Rebecca. Evelyn’s granddaughter.”
Mom covered her mouth. “Did she know who you were?”
“She recognized your name.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Then she knows how I treated Evelyn.”
“I spoke to Rebecca.”
I sat beside her. “Mom, Evelyn died seven years ago.”
“I know. I found her obituary.”
“Then why were you afraid of going inside?”
“Because her family might recognize me. I couldn’t bear hearing what they thought of me.”
“I found her obituary.”
I showed her the photo Rebecca had shared.
Mom stared at my phone’s screen. “Evelyn kept this?”
I nodded.
Mom began crying harder. “She shouldn’t have, because I wasn’t the friend she deserved.”
