Marla doesn’t want to know what they’re talking about; she knows they’re talking about her. She’s as sure of it as she’s sure Matt’s daughter is never coming home. As sure of it as she’s sure of how her body made defective children because of the blood. The damn blood. I know it makes no sense. I know it’s ridiculous. I know it’s stupid and the longer I keep it, the worse it gets. I don’t have anyone to tell. Thought I’d be able to tell Jean one day, but I gave her the same disease.
