Entry #20: Bulletin

I was getting my lunch alone when somebody went near me.

"Jasmine," she whispered in my ear, "can we talk for a minute?"

I didn't expect Patricia to initiate a conversation at all. I still remember how she broke down when I confronted her the other day. Yet, we brought our food trays out of the cafeteria together.

I followed her towards one of the tables outside, like the one beneath the mango tree, where I often discuss Angel's case with the team.

As soon as we arrived, she placed her tray on the table, sat down, and looked at me.

"I did a lot of thinking. And I really…" she struggled with words, "I really don’t want to talk about Angel in any way. It hurts me, and it makes me feel like it's all my fault. I've been struggling with depression, trying to carry the guilt every day."

I wanted to tell her none of it was her fault, but I knew it would be useless.