Tasha stared at her.
Helen gave a tired smile.
“You have your mother’s eyes.”
Tasha looked down at the letter again.
Then, slowly, she began to cry.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
She just stood there with tears running down her face while the same women who had feared her for years watched in complete disbelief.
Finally, Tasha looked back at Helen.
“I’m sorry.”
Helen nodded.
“That’s a start.”
From that day on, nobody saw Tasha bully Helen again.
In fact, every morning, Tasha carried the laundry basin out into the yard herself.
And sometimes, while they worked side by side, Helen told her stories about the mother Tasha had spent her entire life believing had never loved her.
