Mary felt like she was drowning in a sea of guilt. She couldn't pray, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. All she could think about was Deborah, lying in that hospital bed, her life turned upside down because of Mary's own jealousy.
"What's wrong, Mary?" her mother asked, concern etched on her face. "It's Deborah," Mary replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's ill and unhappy, and it's all my fault."
Her mother's expression turned stern. "Mary, talk to me. What's going on?"
Mary took a deep breath, the words tumbling out of her like a confession. "I was jealous of her, Mother. She's so beautiful, so smart, and all the boys love her. Caleb, Joshua... they all talk about her like she's some kind of goddess. And I just felt so... invisible."
Her mother's expression softened, and she reached out to take Mary's hand. "Oh, Mary. You're not invisible. You're a beautiful, talented young woman, and you deserve to be loved and respected just as much as Deborah does."
But Mary shook her head, the tears streaming down her face. "No, Mother. I'm not like Deborah. I'm jealous and petty and cruel. I showed Caleb that letter on purpose, just to hurt Deborah. And now... now she's in the hospital, and it's all my fault."
Her mother sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. "Mary, you need to go to the hospital and apologize to Deborah. You need to make things right between you two."
Mary nodded, feeling a sense of determination wash over her. She would go to the hospital, and she would apologize to Deborah. She would do whatever it took to make things right between them.
As she stood outside Deborah's hospital room, Mary felt her heart pounding in her chest. What would Deborah say to her? Would she even want to see her?
Mary took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Deborah looked up, her eyes cautious. "Hello, Deborah," Mary said softly. "I've missed you. Everybody has."
Deborah raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "What do you want, Mary? Doesn't it offend your pure and gentle soul to be sitting beside me?"
Mary felt a pang of guilt, but she pushed on. "I have a confession to make, Deborah. I did it on purpose. I showed Caleb the letter because I was jealous of you."
Deborah raised her head, astonished. 'Jealous of what? Of you! Everything you are... you can see what sort of person I am. I'm not half as good as you because I pretended to myself I was trying to help you.'
'Efua, I don't care what people think you are,' Nene said, her voice trembling. 'I love you as a sister, and I want to be your friend, if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me?'
Efua said nothing, and Nene continued, feeling desolate. 'I'm very sorry, and I understand if you hate me now, but I will never give up on our friendship.'
Mary's eyes locked onto Deborah's, filled with a deep sadness. "I'll come over to see you tomorrow," Mary said softly, turning to leave.
But Deborah's voice stopped her, barely above a whisper. "Mary, wait. I have something to tell you." Deborah's eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in a world of painful memories.
"My mother married my stepfather when I was twelve," Deborah began, her voice flat and emotionless. "She said it would give us a better life after my father died. But it was a lie. He was a monster, and his son was just as bad. Luckily, he was away most of the time, but when he was home... " Deborah's voice trailed off, and she shuddered.
Mary's eyes were wide with shock, but Deborah continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "Then, when I was thirteen, my stepfather became worse. He started making immoral suggestions, but I pretended as if I didn't understand what he was saying. Sometimes, he would grab me... touch me... it was so sickening."
Deborah's voice dropped to a whisper, and Mary leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest. "Then he came to my room one night and made me do things to him. He put his... " Deborah's voice stopped, and she looked away, tears streaming down her face.
Mary's eyes were filled with horror, but Deborah continued, her voice shaking. "He threatened to kill me if I told anyone. He did it several times last year. He came to my room again, and then I knew I couldn't take it anymore. I fought back with a knife. He was badly hurt."
Mary was shaking her head, her mind reeling with the implications. Deborah was crying now, great sobs racking her body. "Nobody believed me, and my mother called me a demon-possessed liar! She said I was trying to ruin her marriage. I don't blame her. I cannot forget. I get nightmares, and I see him... that's why I stabbed him."
Deborah's body was shaking with sobs, and Mary wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. "It's not your fault, Deborah," Mary whispered. "People may fail you – did – but God loves you, honestly, he does. It may not be much, but I love you too. And you know you are going to be a great person in spite of all you've been through."
Deborah looked up, her eyes red and puffy. "I really cannot go back to that school," she whispered.
Mary's expression turned determined. "You can. I will help you. I will be right there beside you." She smiled and squeezed Deborah's hand. Deborah sniffed and tried to smile as well. Mary hugged her tightly. "So let's go and show them."
"I'll make it up to you, Deborah," Mary promised, holding her close. "I'll be there for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together."
Deborah smiled, a small, sad smile. "Thank you, Mary," she whispered. "Just knowing you're here for me makes me feel a little better."
Mary hugged her tightly, feeling a sense of determination wash over her. She was going to be there for Deborah, no matter what. She was going to help her heal, help her overcome the trauma she had endured. And she was going to make sure that Deborah knew she was loved, no matter what.