The Day My Family Walked Away
That same day, we went for a walk like we always did.
Harriet was riding in her little pedal car, proud as anything.
Rebecca’s face was different, though.
Quiet. Fixed. Like she’d already made peace with what she was about to do.
Halfway through the walk, she stopped.
“I’m leaving you, Jimmy,” she said.
Just like that.
She wasn’t yelling. She wasn’t dramatic.
That’s what made it worse.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she continued. “It’s obvious you’ve given up on everything.”
