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you shouldn’t feel guilty about having money. You should feel responsible, and make sure you do the right things with it.”
“Kerris, your childhood was a nightmare sometimes, but you managed to become this amazing woman. This smart, independent, compassionate, ambitious person who drives old ladies home and cries for little girls she barely knows. Your past haunts you, but it hasn’t twisted you, it hasn’t ruined you. If anything, it’s made you a stronger person. That’s a miracle. You’re the miracle, baby.”
She wasn’t sure when the tears began, or how long she wept into his once-crisp shirt. She only knew that with each stroke of his hand on her back, another layer of pain, another layer of shame, fell away, until she was bathed in the waters of her healing, baptized in her own tears. Made new. Made whole.
“Kerris, the way my son looks at you is like—” Kristeene started, briefly hesitating. “It’s like a starved man. It’s like he can’t bring himself to look at anything else in the room.”
Walsh felt like he was treading water: not moving forward, not moving back, and barely keeping his head above water. Waiting to swim, afraid he would sink.
