"I don't have to tell you anything. Search within your soul. What is it telling you?" If Beamer had spoken the words gently, they might have been nothing more than a wise teacher, or priestess, giving someone who was troubled some direction--as in look inside yourself to find, and fix, the problem. But Beamer's voice was cold and sneer ing and cruel. "It's--it's telling me that I've--I've, uh, made m-mistakes, but not that the Goddess hates me. " Aunt was crying so much that she was getting harder and harder to understand. "Then you should look closer. " Aunt's sobs were wrenching. I couldn't listen anymore. Leaving my earring, I followed my gut and got the hell out of there.
My stomach hurt all through the rest of Spanish class, so much so that I even figured out how to ask Proffe Garmy
