I spent several days keeping the secret. Every time I saw my parents sitting at the dining room table, I felt a knot in my stomach. I wanted to find the right words, but none seemed enough.
I finally mustered up the courage to tell it.
My mother remained motionless for a few seconds. My father slowly lowered the newspaper he was reading and watched me silently. I will never forget that look.
There were no screams.
There were no insults.
Only a long silence that seemed to grow heavier and heavier.
My father took a deep breath before saying:
—We need time to think.I barely slept that night. I imagined hundreds of different possibilities, but none of them resembled what happened the next day.
My parents explained that they couldn’t accept the situation and that they believed it was best for me to start a new life away from the village. They said we all needed time and distance to cope with what had happened.
