13
Carmen
Two Weeks Later…
“I can’t do it,” I whispered. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“It’s gonna be okay, Carmen,” Lori whispered. She carefully reached up a hand and brushed back a loose strand of hair that had fallen from the complex bun wound around the back of my head. Smoothing the veil into place, she kept repeating that. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I didn’t want to cry. It felt like that was all I’d been doing for the last two weeks, the last few months, even the last few years. Every day seemed worse than the last. But this had to be the bottom. Rock bottom. The tear trickled down my face, carving a tiny little path through my makeup.
Lori grabbed a tissue and dabbed it away. I didn’t move. I sat still and stared at the ground, not really seeing anything. “Ma
