I must understand the way she saw it. Unless I forgive her, I will have nothing.
Norma was trembling. "Take it easy," I said. "She doesn't know what she's doing. It wasn't me she was raving at."
"It was the old Charlie. She was afraid of what he might do to you."
"I can't blame her for wanting to protect you. But we don't have to think about it now, because he's gone forever isn't he?"
She wasn't listening to me. There was a dreamy expression on her face.
"I've just had one of those strange experiences where something happens, and you have the feeling you know it's going to happen,"
"as if it all took place before, the exact same way, and you watch it unfold again..."
"A very common experience." She shook her head. "Just now, when I saw her with that knife, it was like a dream I had a long time ago."
What was the use of telling her she had undoubtedly been awake that night as a child, and had seen the whole thing from her room—
that it had been repressed and twisted until she imagined it as a fantasy.
No reason for burdening her with the truth. She would have enough sadness with my mother in the days to come.
I would gladly have taken the burden and the pain off her hands, but there was no sense in starting something I couldn't finish.
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