Dernière sortie
What We Bury
Some truths don't disappear. They wait-quiet, patient-beneath the surface. We tell ourselves we've buried them deep enough, that time will dull the edges, that silence can erase the shape of what happened. But the earth doesn't forget. And neither do we. This story begins with a family that smelled of warm bread and citrus, where laughter spilled across mismatched plates and the nights felt safe. It begins with a girl who stepped out into the dark and never came back.
It begins with the people she left behind-one sister, one friend-both of them certain they would never be helpless again. But the past doesn't stay where you leave it. Memories have roots, and guilt is the kind of thing that grows. And when the ground starts shifting, when the things you thought were gone begin to claw their way back, you learn the hardest truth of all:You can bury a body. You can bury a name.
But you can't bury what you are.
It begins with the people she left behind-one sister, one friend-both of them certain they would never be helpless again. But the past doesn't stay where you leave it. Memories have roots, and guilt is the kind of thing that grows. And when the ground starts shifting, when the things you thought were gone begin to claw their way back, you learn the hardest truth of all:You can bury a body. You can bury a name.
But you can't bury what you are.
Some truths don't disappear. They wait-quiet, patient-beneath the surface. We tell ourselves we've buried them deep enough, that time will dull the edges, that silence can erase the shape of what happened. But the earth doesn't forget. And neither do we. This story begins with a family that smelled of warm bread and citrus, where laughter spilled across mismatched plates and the nights felt safe. It begins with a girl who stepped out into the dark and never came back.
It begins with the people she left behind-one sister, one friend-both of them certain they would never be helpless again. But the past doesn't stay where you leave it. Memories have roots, and guilt is the kind of thing that grows. And when the ground starts shifting, when the things you thought were gone begin to claw their way back, you learn the hardest truth of all:You can bury a body. You can bury a name.
But you can't bury what you are.
It begins with the people she left behind-one sister, one friend-both of them certain they would never be helpless again. But the past doesn't stay where you leave it. Memories have roots, and guilt is the kind of thing that grows. And when the ground starts shifting, when the things you thought were gone begin to claw their way back, you learn the hardest truth of all:You can bury a body. You can bury a name.
But you can't bury what you are.
