What Have I Done?

Lisa's Villa

South Los Angeles

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Lisa spoke harshly to Elsa. The guilt gnawed at her. She wanted desperately to apologize, yet her subconscious insisted otherwise—it whispered that what she had done might be the very thing Elsa needed to recognize her own mistake.

Clad in a green jumpsuit, Lisa paced anxiously around her room. The fabric clung gently to her baby bump, which was now prominently visible. She had sent her husband, Pete, out to fetch some carrots—one of the few things she still craved.

“What have I done?” she muttered under her breath, halting her stride. “I shouldn’t have been so brutal. Even if my intentions were to help Elsa, I had no right to speak to her like that. She was there for me during my darkest days, reminded me of my worth when I had forgotten it myself. She stood by me throughout therapy. And this is how I repay her?” Her voice trembled. “I must apologize.”