I shook my head, snapping back to the present. The officer was still staring at me, waiting for an answer I had no intention of giving.
“Bianca,” he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “Whatever happened, we can help you. Just tell us why.”
I let out a slow breath, my gaze drifting to the blood-soaked carpet beneath my feet. “Some things,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, “can’t be forgiven.”
My mind then wandered to what happened earlier.
I opened the bag filled with wedding decorations and walked to the drawer in the hallway, rummaging through its clutter for some tape. The soft creak of the drawer echoed as I sifted through old receipts, a forgotten pair of scissors and an assortment of pens before finally finding the roll of tape.
As I turned back to the living room, I spoke casually, my voice light but tinged with guilt. “I’ve already been a burden to you for eight years. Now that I’m an adult, I feel bad staying here.”
The words lingered in the air like a sour note. Tom, who had been gently wiping the leaves of a tall ficus plant, froze mid-motion. Sarah, who was rearranging freshly washed plates on the dining table, looked up sharply. Both their faces fell, their expressions clouded with concern.
“Bianca,” Sarah began, her voice soft but firm. She stepped closer, wiping her hands on her apron. “We’re family. What burden? You’re like our own daughter. Taking care of you is what we’re supposed to do. Don’t overthink it and don’t say things like this again, or Tom and I will be sad.”
Tom set down his cleaning cloth and walked over, his gaze warm yet resolute. “That’s right. You’re part of this family and you always will be.”
The word “family” echoed in my mind like a haunting refrain. I forced a smile, nodding in agreement, but my throat tightened, making it impossible to respond. Turning back to the decorations, I began sorting through the colorful assortment of balloons and streamers.
***
The entire house seemed to hum with the joyful anticipation of David and Anne’s wedding. The faint scent of lavender cleaner mingled with the rich aroma of simmering broth.
Sarah, her cheeks flushed, flitted between the kitchen and the dining room, her apron dusted with flour. Meanwhile, Tom, ever the perfectionist, meticulously tended to the potted plants, his brow furrowed in concentration.