When I was in my room, I felt paralyzed with dread. I had done something wrong, and if the worst happened, I didn’t even have Mama to fall back upon. Around and around my thoughts went, ever deeper, ever darker, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. What use was it, this chewing over all the ways things could go wrong? Being caught in my own head was exhausting. Worse, it was useless, and I despised being useless. I couldn’t make anything right and avoid all the horrors I could so vividly imagine if I didn’t know what it was I had done wrong. As soon as I heard Agnes go into her room, I followed
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