She placed the letter on the coffee table and covered her face with her hands. "I have failed to protect your little angel." She was trembling as she cried, clutching her heart. "You entrusted me to her, but what have I done?"
Her body ached from the cries, each one piercing her like a shard of glass. "Alicia," she whispered, her voice faltering and cracking between the agonizing sobs. "Where have you gone? Her hands were shaking as they covered her face, attempting in vain to protect herself from the misery that seemed to be consuming her own soul. "Please, please come back to me," she pleaded, her words scarcely audible.
Mrs. Anderson felt a torrent of emotion rush over her, overwhelming her like an invincible force. She carried a lot of weight—the weight of the secrets she was now carrying, the weight of the responsibilities placed in her hands, and the hurt of her apparent failure.
