CHAPTER 55
I swear that if Grandma Lucy were living in the days of the Salem witch trials, she would have gotten herself hanged. There was something mystical, almost unnerving about the way she sat there listening while I told her all my troubles. Told her why I came out to her farm. I hadn’t even been this forthcoming before with Reginald.
“So he hit you and made you fall, and that’s when you got in the car and drove away?” she asked.
“He didn’t hit me.” I was quick to correct her. “It was an accident.” The word fell flat on my lips.
She nodded, her eyes so perceiving.
Ashamed, I looked away.
“And he doesn’t want you to keep this child?”
My abdomen felt hard, like I’d eaten something rotten. Nobody warns you about all those minor discomforts of pregnancy like indigestion. I stared
