The Truth of the Past

Charlotte

“Please, just hear me out for a moment," I said, holding up my hands in a calming gesture as I moved closer to the door. “I’m not playing games. This is important to me, more than you can imagine.”

“No, you listen to me. This house has been empty for years after the Edwards died in that ghastly accident. Everyone loved them; we held a service for them here, in this house, trying to come to terms with the fact that we would never see them drive down the street again. Their daughter was taken to foster care, and a few months later, we heard she had died too. Suicide. That poor child was so traumatized by her parents’ accident she decided to take her own life, and you think you can disrespect them like that?!” she exclaimed, walking toward me with a menacing look.

“Suicide? That’s incredulous; where did you hear that?” I asked, and she scowled at me. “I didn’t kill myself. Well, I wish I had, but I just ran away from my foster parents’ house over and over again because the cond