“I stood beside her, my body rigid and tight. My shoulders were hunched up past my ears as though I was trying to disappear into my body like a tortoise. I clung to the diary so tightly my knuckles were white. ‘Oh, look at you,’ she said, in her joyful, carefree voice. ‘You’re like a drowned rat. Let me dry you off—’ ‘Don’t touch me,’ I said quickly, taking a step away from her. I angled my body away from her but I sneaked a look at her now and then over my shoulder. ‘What’s happened, Tamara?’ ‘...Don’t pretend you don’t already know.’ A quick look over my shoulder showed her eyes narrow momentarily, then open wide. She registered something. She knew something. She looked like someone who had been caught. ‘Admit it.’ ‘Tamara,’ she began, then paused, searching to find the right words. ‘Tamara, look at me. I’m…let me explain…we should go somewhere else to talk. Not here. Not in this greenhouse. Not with you like this.’ ‘No. First I want to hear you admit it.’ ‘Tamara, I really think that we should go inside and—’ ‘Admit that you wrote it,’ I snapped.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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