Overcome, I stifled sobs choking my throat, wiped tears from my face.
Sorry, I spluttered, echoing the last word I ever spoke to Mr Bowen, though this time I meant it. Her words were as rain in drought, each one soaking into the parched dust of my heart: "Never be afraid to cry. It will free your mind from sorrowful thoughts. And after, it will free you."
I felt I understood, and felt I would never understand.
"Simply accept," she said.
But I've done terrible things, I thought. Imagined worse things. I don't know why. How do I simply accept?