I was approaching the door when something strange happened. I could hear their voices, some concerned, others worried, and these feelings were about me. Guilt immediately washed over me, in waves. Here I was, consumed by my own thoughts, yet they were all thinking of me. I didn't even know how to feel so I forcefully pushed the door open, with urgency in my steps.
"I'm sorry, guys," I mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor.
Joan's gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and instinctively, I lifted my hand to press it to my cheek. Her touch was warm, soothing. "What are you sorry for?" she asked, with a calm and understanding voice.
"I thought what you did yesterday was so wonderful, and so generous. I honestly believed it would make a difference, and I hate that it didn’t. Then, I tried to run
