“You didn’t push him down the stairs,” Savvy said. I hadn’t, but I was fairly certain that Matt actually thought I had. He’d said the lie so many times he’d started to believe it himself. Hell, I was starting to believe it. The (fake?) memory of me violently shoving him now plays next to the (true?) memory of me flailing out my arms in anger and of him tripping because he was drunk again. “But the truth doesn’t matter,” she said again. “I should have controlled my temper,” I said softly. I should have just cried. Taken the hits and crawled away to show my scars. I should have been a better
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