Faith
I start to tell them everything. Everything about my sons and daughter, my husband and the house. The sheriff and another man join us halfway through. I tell them about the river and the aftermath. About the hatred and the anger that I felt running through his veins after. About how I left one night and never looked back.
I had taken up drinking to drown out my feelings. One night I stumbled home drunk and told Charles what I was thinking.
"I can't believe you. I just can't," Charles said. We sat across each other at the dinner table."You can't leave me alone."
"I told you, I'm sorry," I said. I wasn't. "I have to go." In my daze, I don't remember what else he said after that, but I know that I packed my bags and left.
As I walked out the door, I heard a strange noise, almost as if Charles was crying. But I didn't look back. I couldn't.
They listened to my stories, solemn and somber. Now they knew the truth about my son.
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