“Unearthing the Secrets: What the Ashes Reveal About Our Past and Future”
The doctor came around his desk, and I lifted up my shirt to show him the bruise. Gently, he touched my skin, and I winced.
“Bathtub?” he asked.
Does he believe me? What would happen if he didn’t? I tugged on the sleeves to cover the bruises on my arms. I nodded.
“I wasn’t paying attention. It was stupid of me.”
He went back behind the desk.
“You’ve cracked a rib,” he said. “But there’s nothing we can do about that. Are you taking Tylenol for the pain?”
I nodded.
“Then just be careful.”
I drove myself home, wondering what I’d have done if he’d questioned my story. But this was the second time I’d cracked my ribs and neither doctor ever asked me any uncomfortable questions. Since being married, I’d learned to lie. And learned that while people might guess the truth, they wanted to believe my lies.
Post Comment