Celeste wept. Not the tidy weeping of confession, but the ugly, body-shaking sobs of a person finally setting down a stone they had carried so long it had grown roots into their spine.
“I know what you are,” Celeste said. “I always did. But I never understood why you stopped talking to me.” prosis
“You passed out from the wine,” Celeste said. “You were lying on the sacks of flour. I was jealous of you. Everyone loved you. Even Theo, who was supposed to be mine.” Celeste wept