WHAT SHE DIDN'T SAY
I bumped into a woman from Rebecca’s neighborhood at the clinic. The look in her eyes spoke before her mouth did. “It’s been a while since I last saw you,” she said. “Yeah… I’ve been gathering some strength,” I replied with a small smile. She studied my face for a moment. “You look good… more like your daughter, Olerato,” she said softly. “I do? Thanks,” I answered, then asked carefully, “How’s my little girl doing? I’m sure she’s still playing in the dirt.” She smiled, but it wasn’t just a smile. “Say no more… she and my baby are friends.” There was something behind her expression — something heavy, something she didn’t want to carry alone. Before the conversation could settle, she suddenly said: “Why don’t you go with your daughter? I heard you don’t live this side anymore.”
- Writer
