“I? Why hadn’t I trusted myself? Because I’d trusted the woman across the street instead, that’s why. That grown up. That Assistant Principal. So in a way, it had been my fault. But in another way, not. But no matter whose fault it was, I still had bruises on my arms. And now, memories I didn’t want.”

“I? Why hadn’t I trusted myself? Because I’d trusted the woman across the street instead, that’s why. That grown up. That Assistant Principal. So in a way, it had been my fault. But in another way, not. But no matter whose fault it was, I still had bruises on my arms. And now, memories I didn’t want.”

— Kristen D. Randle