The words were venomous, each one a deliberate, precise stab. Prostitute. The label was so inaccurate, so vicious, that for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe. He had monitored me. He had been in the same congregation, listening to the same sermon about forgiveness, and all he had been doing was gathering ammunition.
The fragile peace I’d managed to join together shattered. The shame I thought I’d left at the church doors came flooding back, amplified a thousand times. He was still watching. He would always be watching. My past wasn't just following me; it was waiting for me in the pews, its eyes full of hate.
I stumbled out of the bathroom, the world tilting around me. I found Becky in the hallway, carrying a stack of plates to the table.
“Becky,” I whispered, my voice strangled.
Her s
