I hear the door open as Charlotte walks inside her guestroom. When I ran away from the house, I thought about crying outside, but I could not bear the shame I would feel if someone saw me crying so I ran to Charlotte ’s house. She sets the tray in her hand on the bedside table and takes a seat on the bed beside my lying figure. I don’t think I have moved from this position since I lay down here, crying. I only stopped because my body did not have more tears to give out.
“How are you feeling?” She asks concerned.
“Better and thank you”
“That’s good and why are you thanking me?”
“It’s been hours since I arrived at your door with a tear stained face, and you have not asked me why. Thank you for not trying to push me to tell you what was wrong and for allowing me to cry my heart
