Chapter 18 Troublemakers

It seemed like Calvin and I could never avoid a fight whenever we were at home. For the past three years, he'd relentlessly pierced my heart with words that had cut deeper than I'd thought possible. I naturally did the same, hurling my own barbs at him, each one as sharp as his. If this was what our relationship had come to—an exchange of wounds—then so be it. I'd already died twice in this life; fear had become nothing more than a distant memory to me. I couldn't recall the exact words of his final tirade, only that I turned away from him and slipped into a deep sleep. My frail body made it easy to surrender to exhaustion. Without it, I doubt I would've found any rest at all. … The next day, Harlan came straight to the office to apologize. His posture was humble, and his concern seemed sincere. "Ms. Jefferson, I'm truly sorry about what happened yesterday. My friends were just drunk. They didn't mean to offend you. Could you please say a few kind words to Mr. Pierce for me?