16: The pain that stays

Two weeks later,

“Jaclyn, we need to leave now,” Diana called to her, gathering the kits and basket they came with for the picnic.

Jaclyn held up a hand. “A few minutes, mama, Ken and I are yet to finish our discussion.”

She sighed and placed her hands on her waist. “You’ve said that before and we are still here. I’m pretty sure the Millers want to take their son home the same way I want to take you,” she told her in a serious tone.

“Come on, mama, just a few minutes,” she whines, turning away from Ken.

“You can tell him whatever you want to tell him tomorrow at school.”

“But, mama, I might forget.”

“Fine, one more minute,” she says, and Jaclyn throws her hand up in the air.

“Thank you, mama, love you.”

Jaclyn’s eyes fluttered in bed and a rasping cry leaves her mouth, realising this like many other that have followed these past weeks have been n