Fittingly helpful for when the truth is too painful and haunting to say.
"That is so awful!" Margaret exclaims, bug-eyed. "I do not know that woman. But she is so fortunate to have such a sweet granddaughter like you." She smiles, but it falls almost immediately. "Where would you be staying at?
Hopefully not with that useless bastard right?"
That got me so confused that I almost exposed my own lie.
I wanted to ask what she meant by that until I quickly recalled the imaginary, rapist and abusive stepfather fabricated story that I told.
Shit, scratch that! Lies are not much of protection. They are bad and powerful. It easily escapes your memory because that is what it is—a lie. But the people you tell see and believe it as the truth.
She is starting to look at me strangely. "No of course I won't." I deny firmly.
He got arrested for gambling and is currently in jail. He won't be out for a while. But I will be staying with an aunt just to be safe." More, more lies.
