Later, Mrs. Collins told me Vanessa was moving closer to her sister. She’d found a new job and wanted a fresh start.
I hoped she would find peace.
Not because I wanted her to return to our lives.
Because I no longer needed her failure to feel like my victory.
The victory had already happened.
It had happened the first time Irvin brought her gifts home instead of hiding them.
It had happened every time he refused to participate in her little games.
And it had happened when I realized I didn’t need to become cruel, insecure, or vindictive just because somebody else wanted to make me feel small.
The gift box had simply made the truth visible.
A week after Vanessa moved, Irvin and I sat on the back porch drinking coffee.
The weather was warm, the garden needed watering, and somebody down the street was attempting to teach a dog to stop barking at passing bicycles.
