CHAPTER 89

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The water and soap powder chase the grey muck down the drain until it is no more. I stand for a while and let it beat down on me. Then I stoop, clasp my knees and cry a river. When I feel like I am totally cleansed, I open the door and step out. The three large mirrors confront me with the truth I've been hiding for twenty-two years. And for the first time, I stare at the real me and refuse to look away. This is who you are Mary Pethiel. Not the woman who always tries to fit in. This piece of abstract art is the real you.

Why would you ever expect anyone to choose this over a masterpiece like Desiree? Admit it. You're nothing compared to her. You're nothing compared to anything truly beautiful. And you don't belong anywhere. Nowhere! Certainly not here on this top floor with people whose lives are well planned out; people who everybody wants. I sigh, push open my door and grab my diary in defeat. It's all right, Mary. Everything has a beginning and an end. Now exhale and cleanse your soul.

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