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Weekly Contest #278
I sip my water, hoping it might wash down the bile rising in my throat. "What do you mean my father didn't die in a car accident?" I move closer to her bed, hoping I misunderstood what she just said. "I killed him. I did it to survive. You're nothing like him, I was worried, but you're nothing like him. My name isn't Naomi Briggs. It's Amanda Storey. I'm sorry, Abigail. I'm so sorry; I should have told you. I just loved you too much. Remember that," she squeezes my hand, and with that last effort, her heart stops. I sit there beside her bed,...
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