My Daughter’s Mistake: An utterly gripping and unforgettable tear-jerker by Kate Hewitt

Author:Kate Hewitt [Hewitt, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture

16

JENNA

I watch the whole pumpkin drama from halfway down the aisle; the guy who was helping Ellen sells weed from behind the gas station most nights. Sam buys from him sometimes, and I pretend not to notice, because at least it’s not hard drugs, right? Anyway, everyone says they’re going to decriminalize marijuana soon. It’s not the same as meth.

Ellen Wilkinson is on her knees, looking frazzled and despondent, and while part of me is meanly vindicated to see her like that, another part is still angry. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

I remind myself I was going to be nice to Ellen Wilkinson the next time I saw her, but then I notice she’s not even helping the guy with the pumpkins, just watching him clean up her mess, and when he leaves, with a smile and a wave, she simply stares. She doesn’t even say thank you. Typical.

Then she heads toward her cart, and I realize it’s the one I’m standing right in front of. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of me, and we stare at each other for what feels like a full minute but is probably only a few seconds. Neither of us says a word.

Finally, hoarsely, she speaks. “How is…” She moistens her lips. “How is your daughter?”

“The same, thanks for asking.” My voice is flat. At least I don’t sound angry. I want to be nice to this woman, or at least polite, but God help me, it’s hard. Every time I see her, a dozen different emotions, none of them good, start churning inside me.

“I’m so sorry,” Ellen says helplessly, her hands fluttering at her sides. “Really, I am. We all are. I know that doesn’t make much of a difference…”

No, it damned well doesn’t. “I still haven’t seen your daughter,” I remark, my tone almost conversational, but with a bite to it. “Although I’ve heard enough about her, God knows. About how she moved my daughter after the accident. Didn’t mention it to the police, though, did she?”

Ellen’s eyes widen again and I fold my arms, anger rushing through me as I remember what Detective Trainor told me, and Brian too. I want to be proactive here; I am finally doing something, fighting back, and screw being nice to Ellen Wilkinson.

“Why did she do that, do you think, Ellen?” I ask. “Because it looks to me like she might be hiding something, and I’d really like to know what it is.”

“She was just trying to help.” Her voice is little more than a whisper, and I know she’s scared.

“Oh yeah, trying to help. Sure.”

“I know you’re hurting,” Ellen says, her voice rising, “but you don’t have to assume the worst. This really was an accident, a terrible accident. Maddie never meant to hit—to hurt—your daughter. Of course she didn’t. Anything she did was to try to help her. And we’re all so sorry…”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry,” I spit, taking a menacing step closer to her, and I feel her fear.

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