She could hear their voices. Accusing. Screaming louder than when they caught her dropping coins in the toilet. This time, the problem was not her. It was money, infidelity, and all things only adults would care to fight about.The obscenities flew everywhere. She sought silence, escape, but only thing she could do was crouch behind her grandmother's 50-year-old full length mirror and hide her head to block the sound. "Stop..." she cried to herself, rocking back and forth, as if movement could somehow ward off whatever pain was swirling around. But it would not go away. She knew that if she crawled out from where she hid, they would only come after her, instead and, probably, fulfill their threat of shoving her inside a flour sack and hang her up the front yard's mango tree. The price she has to pay for being concerned with other people's lives. Even if it was her family's. Because they need someone to take the blame for the things they did. And because they thought her innocence would help her forget.

*needs improvement