Grace

Grace had anorexia.
The words ring through my head when silence smothers me. They scream at me, blaming me, demanding to be heard.
I didn't mean to kill her.
I didn't know.
Sometimes I wish I could just turn back time, just to take a step back and look at her. See it in real life. All the signs, the warnings: the hollow cheeks, the sharp ribs, the bony elbows, the empty eyes. Maybe, if I'd seen them, then I wouldn't have said the things I said, or done the things I did.