Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I nod, giving her a soft expression. “You’re right, he shouldn’t have. The justice system is all kinds of messed up. I am so sorry for you and your family, for what you went through.”
“That man took my entire life and he’s walking free, there isn’t a single thing in this world that could make that pain go away.”
A kind of aching pain radiates through my chest, one that I’ve never had to feel before in my life. It’s the tiniest glimpse of what it must feel like to live in a world alone, after losing everything. The pain of going to be each night and lying on cold sheets. The pain of waking up with no one to sit and have a coffee with. The pain of not having anyone to experience those joyous moments in life with.
It hurts.
I can only imagine what it feels like for her.
Hurt doesn’t even come close.
Hurt is mere a grain of sand in a large ocean full of it.
“I am so sorry. I wish there was something more I could say, but I am sorry.”
She studies me. “You’re the first person who hasn’t come to my door demanding a comment from me in at least five years.”
That saddens me. Mostly because she had nobody to come and be with her, just to sit and hold her hand. It’s in that moment, I decide I’m not going to push for answers. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a reporter because I can’t imagine lying a single moment more to this poor woman, purely to get information about a story.
“You don’t have any family?” I ask, and it’s genuine. I’m not asking because I want to write it, I’m asking because this woman is alone, and she doesn’t deserve to be.
“No,” she tells me, shaking her head, her eyes fading out that much more. “They were all I had.”
“That’s truly awful. Nobody should ever be alone. Can I help you with something? Go to the store? Clean up? Anything at all?”
She looks to me, and her eyes seem to glisten just a touch. “I’ve managed just fine on my own for all of these years, but thank you. Tell me more about your friend.”
I make up an extravagant story about my “friend” getting involved in the club through Western where she started dating of the members, and how he broke her heart, and she was concerned she knew too much and something bad would happen to her, especially knowing what the President, Western, was capable of. She overheard something one day, and they know she knows it. She’s scared. Nobody will listen to her when she tries to get support.
I feel horrible for doing it, and I don’t plan on using anything she says against her, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious to see if she’ll talk to me.
She shakes her head sadly when I finish. “That club is dangerous. I used to blame Western entirely for what he did, but then I figured out when you’re raised in a place like that, you have no hope. His father is hard and cold, and that club has had more than their fair share of run ins with the law. My husband and son just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, and please tell me to mind my own business if you don’t want to answer, but my friend told me that she overheard them talking and that Western maintains he didn’t do it, and something about the mayor and local police officers having more to do with what went down.”
That’s the biggest lie I’ve told.
I don’t know what that club talks about, hell, I’m only just slowly figuring out what everyone in town is talking about.
“I’ve heard all the stories, but I don’t believe any of them. He was found, right there with my son and husband. Those police officers were there for me, they helped me through the darkest times of my life. There is no way they were involved.”
Interesting.
“I believe you.” I nod. “I know people talk, they have nothing better to do.”
“The last reporter who tried to write a story about it attempted to claim that the police and Bill Whart had something to do with it, and she was run out of town. Not because she was right, but because there was an uproar against her for spreading lies. The people of this town dislike the members of that club and anyone attempting to stand up for them.”
That sparks my interest.
Someone else attempted to write this story?
Of course many have no doubt tried, but it sounds to me like this woman was getting a little too close to the truth. Anxiously, I dare to press on. “I did hear about that. What was her name again?”