There was no red dress.
No crowd of admiring friends.
No table filled with food.
She looked smaller.
Older.
Alone.
I felt sadness.
But I’d finally learned that feeling sorry for someone did not create an obligation to let them hurt my family again.
For months, Carmen had sent messages.
First came insults.
Then accusations.
Then excuses disguised as apologies.
“I apologize if Jessica felt offended by my traditional methods,” she had written in one text.
“I was only trying to help your household run efficiently,” she claimed in another.
Not once had she simply admitted what she’d done.
Then, one week before the sports festival, another message arrived.
“Zayden, I finally brought myself to watch those saved video recordings, and I felt sick and ashamed hearing my own voice on those clips, as I don’t even recognize the cruel person I became, so if Jessica and Olivia ever want to hear a sincere apology, I will give it without making a single excuse,” the text read.
