“I should send it anonymously through the emergency report line. Bree Prexy would appreciate these pictures,” LaMesha said.
But as she swiped, she paused; a photo of Jioni appeared, with her troubled and melancholy face, damaged arm and cheek, and a look of so much regret and anguish.
LaMesha froze.
She closed her eyes and then deleted the photo. Before she knew it, she had deleted all of them. And with those photos she deleted her responsibility and justice. In the trash went her justification for being cold and serious, but she held onto the comfort that her disloyalty was discreet. There, she sat guilty and unholy because she didn’t destroy a teen’s chance at life. Her own bed felt uncomfortable.
“Those two delinquents better make something of their lives,” She said irritably. LaMesha’s gaze wandered her room until it naturally caught her only prized possession once again.
