between us.

Walking Into My Own Funeral

Harold reached toward the monitor.

“No more.”

“Don’t turn it off,” I said.

“Iris, that girl is grieving a lie she didn’t make.”

On the screen, Sophie wiped away tears.

“I love her,” she said. “I need everyone in this room to know that.”

I stood.

“Open the side door.”

Harold looked at me for continue reading …