Epilogue
Connie closes her eyes tightly and reminds herself that she needs to breathe, every inhale and exhale shaky and exhausted. And the chaos of the city that surrounds her—businessmen bustling past her and car horns and indecipherable voices—all of it melts away for just the shortest moment, leaving Connie with simply the echoes of the past two days swirling around in her head.
Echoes of raised voices and slamming doors and stinging words, followed by the cold silence that accompanies the telling of the truth.
“I don’t know who you are,” her father says, so much softer than she would have expected. She doesn’t tell him that she’s sorry though she knows he expects it—sorry that she lied for so long, or sorry that she’s leaving. Sorry wouldn’t amount to much right now when her fam
