Some Forgiveness Needs No Words
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Summary
I was at Owen’s place to drop off some hangover soup.
His mother pulled me aside, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “The girl who brought him home last night… she slept in the guest room. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
I asked without thinking, “What idea would I get? That she’s still too drunk for me to look after her?”
The question hung in the air, followed by a dead, unnerving silence.
Just then, the guest room door creaked open.
A girl in Owen’s button-down shirt emerged, rubbing her eyes. A fresh, angry-red mark bloomed on her collarbone, impossible to miss.
