Two months later,
sitting in the home for juvenile delinquents, Debbie got called to a
supervisor there. She informed her that her mother had committed
suicide. She told her also that she was invited to participate in the
morning for her, the ceremony for which would be next Wednesday at
noon.
Deborah sat in
chock. She didn't know what to make of it. But after thinking for a
long while about it, she finally arrived at a conclusion: She wasn't
the one to know how evil her son was. She said this to the warden,
who looked surprised at first. but after a while she understood what
she was talking about.
ـِـ So
that's how it is according to you?!
ـِـ That's
how it is in reality!
The warden looked
surprised again. then she said to her that:
ـِـ I
don't know for now, but they've told me that you're here for actually
blackmailing him! ...
Debbie was startled.
The supervisor
looked at her. She took her for faking it.
ـِـ I'm
not completely sure, Deborah, but I do believe that is taken to be a
chock you're supposed to be having.
Deborah looked at
her.
ـِـ No,
it's not chock that it's supposed to be!
Her warden looked
grimly at her. She stayed silent for a while. then she added:
ـِـ You'll
be allowed to go to the funeral that I've mentioned for you. If you
want to I can drive you there. If not, I think you might need to
speak to my boss . I'm sure they can pick someone else then to follow
you there.
ـِـ May
I decide later?
The warden looked at
her.
ـِـ No,
not really, not on my account. But my offer stands for now and –
yes I can give you a little time –
let's say for half an hour.
ـِـ OK,
thanks, Debbie mumbled as she left and went of to the main room.
After five minutes
she came back and said:
ـِـ I'll
accept your ride.
ـِـ OK,
the warden answered.
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