Raymond, my boy… oh God."
MaMa clamped both hands over her mouth as Raymond stepped into the room. The moment their eyes landed on him, the atmosphere shifted completely. Bertha and Sylvia stood frozen, the shock of his appearance written all over their faces.
Raymond looked nothing like himself. He was haggard, worn down, and barely holding together. His hair, once always sleek and brushed neatly backward, now fell messily over his face, unkempt and dull. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw tense, and there was a heaviness in his entire presence that made the room feel smaller.
They all rose to their feet at once.
"Oh, what am I going to tell your mother when I see her?" MaMa cried, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. "I have failed her in every way possible…"
Her thoughts had already drifted to Raymond's late mother her dear friend…
and the guilt she carried resurfaced all at once.
"It's not your fault, MaMa," Raymond said softly, trying to steady her.
