Page 116 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"I never meant..."

"No." I cut her off. "You don't get to tell me what you meant."

The room fell silent.

"My sister is dead. So is her baby. Laid out on those steps in her home, left to die. My parents buried a daughter. I buried the only person who ever knew me before the world did."

Another tear slid down my cheek.

"And you stood in the middle of all of that wearing her life as if it belonged to you."

Camille started to cry.

"I've paid for it."

"No." I shook my head. "You've only just started."

I stood up slowly.

"You spent years living a life that wasn't yours. You wanted her life so much, you moved right next door to the house she shared with Kenny. You built a life that should have been hers. You stood in that kitchen acting like everything was normal. Baking cakes, leading a club and shit." I let out a small laugh, but there was nothing funny about it.

I stopped for a moment.

"You even convinced yourself you deserved it."

Camille sobbed openly now.

"I've hated myself every day."

I kept looking at her.

"And somehow my sister is still the one who paid the price."

The room went quiet. We didn’t say a word.

Since I walked into the visitation room, this was the first time Camille had nothing to say. She put her face in her hands.

"I was angry and scared. I loved him.”

"And so did my sister, but you don’t think I know that?"

She looked at me, tears in her eyes.

"You led the club she loved. You smiled every Thursday, and every Thursday I smiled at you."

Her eyes widened as something clicked for her.

"The lemons from your tree?"

I gave a small smile.

"I see the math is mathing now. Two plus two is finally making four."

"You used my allergy against me?"

"You did tell me a lot about yourself."