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I stand back and let her pass. As soon as I close the door, she whirls on me.
"Do you not care why I haven't spoken to you?"
I debate how to answer. Whatever I say won't be the right answer.
Before I can, she's in my face, jabbing a finger in my chest. "You got pregnant! Before marriage! And with that despicable person! It's your fault you lost that baby. God knew it'd be a bastard child."
My hands clench at my sides and all I see is red. Her words strike something inside me. I move away before I lash out. I'm afraid of what I might do.
I don't utter one word as I pull open my door. "Get the fuck out."
"What? You will not talk to me like that young lady!" She gets close to my face and I move again. "It's not my fault you can't keep your legs shut!"
"Get out!" I scream. Angry, hot tears spill down my cheeks. “Get out! Get out!"
"You'll be sorry, Emma." She huffs past me and I slam the door shut. I lean back against it and slide slowly to the floor.
I thought my tears were done. But, no, they slide down my face as if they'd never stopped.
