How would she explain what she had done to Martha and Jonathan, the people who had welcomed her into their family with open arms? How would she explain to them that she killed their only son? How would she explain it to Perry, Jimmy and the police? As far as they were concerned, the machine responsible for her misery didn’t work anymore.
How could she tell them what she had done?
How could she still go on?
She couldn’t even think straight. Her head hurt from the returning memories, the crying and the guilt. Her thoughts were turning ’round and ’round in her head.
What should she do now? Call the police? Confess what she had done? Would they believe her that she wasn’t responsible? Did it matter if they convicted her or not?
No, her life had ended anyway the second Clark’s life was over. It didn’t matter if she would end in prison, on death row, or if she was lynched by a mob. Her body might be alive but her soul had died.
Without Clark she was merely existing.
She was completely caught up in her despair never noticing a movement nearby.
