It explained why her hands shook during our photograph.
I looked at the phone sitting on the table.
Our last picture as friends.
We were both smiling.
Now I understood why Susan had insisted.
She knew that once she spoke, she could not ask me to smile beside her again.
“You planned this trip for the confession.”
“Yes.”
“The whole thing?”
“Yes.”
I felt violated by that too.
Every breakfast.
Every walk.
Every sunset.
She had known the countdown.
I had thought we were healing.
She had been saying goodbye.
Emily spoke.
“She almost told you the first night.”
Susan glanced at her.
“You weren’t there.”
“No. You called me.”
That surprised me.
Susan wiped her face.
“I called her every night.”
I looked at Emily.
“She was terrified.”
“Stop protecting her.”
“I’m not.”
Emily held my gaze.
“I’m telling you what happened. You can hate what she did.”
