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the face of her own guilt.

 
    The sun had gone down, leaving the dining room illuminated only by the lights of the street through the windows. After hours of crying, Kyara had fallen into a kind of a numb stupor. She still hadn't moved, though her eyes hurt and her throat was sore. Only a frantic knocking at her door finally forced her out of her stupor.
     
    "Go away," she called out, her voice thick from her weeping.
     
    "Kyara?" came Jason's voice. "I came to ... are you okay?"
     
    Horrified, Kyara started wiping her eyes on the tablecloth in front of her.
     
    "I'm fine," she called out. "Go away."
     
    "Uh, If that's what you want, I can go. I just ... I just wanted to check and see what happened. Rick came back and said you weren't going to help out after all?"
     
    I should just quit. It's not like I'm welcome.
     
    But it was so nice. I was finally making friends.
     
    "Rick's a fucking liar." Kyara called back, choking back tears again. "I'm not feeling well, is all. I'll come back next week."
     
    "Are you sure you ... oh, Kyara, what happened?" Jason's voice was suddenly louder and clearer, no longer blocked by the door.
     
    Stupid not locking the stupid doors in this stupid town.
     
    Kyara turned away, trying to hide her reddened eyes in the dark.
     
    "Nothing," she said. "I'm just not ... ."
     
    The heavy fall of boots cut her off as Jason crossed the room.
     
    "What the hell did that idiot say this time?" he asked gruffly, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder.
     
    Kyara shook her head.
     
    "It was my fault, anyway. I asked him what his problem was."
     
    Jason let out a long breath. "And he told you." His voice was low, his breath warm against the back of her neck.
     
    Kyara sniffed. "I asked him to. I just didn't know that people knew, was all. I should have figured, in this town, that people would have heard."
     
    Jason's response was slower this time.
     
    "What do people know?"
     
    Kyara tried not to wail when she replied.
     
    "That it's my fault my father is dead."
     
    There was a beat, and then Jason's arms were around her, wrapping around to hold her from behind. He pressed himself against her, leaning the length of his body against the curve of her back. His was still damp from his work, but warm and firm. For just a moment, Kyara just let herself be held, leaning into his strength.
     
    He just supported her, letting her lean against him in the dark.
     
    "Kyara. I didn't know. I don't think anyone did. And if they heard, no one would believe it."
     
    Kyara paused, caught in his arms and the spiral of her own thoughts.
     
    "But the things he said... it was like he knew..."
     
    "What, exactly, did he say?" asked Jason, not pulling away. Kyara turned in his arms, her breasts brushing against the wet fabric of his shirt. She stared up into his face in the dim light coming in from the street.
     
    "He said that I should go crying home to my father, but everyone knows why I can’t."
     
    Jason's face softened, his eyes exploring her face.
     
    "Oh, Kyara. He didn't know."
     
    Kyara blinked up at him uncertainly.
     
    “Rich's a giant racist, has been since I was a kid.” Jason clarified. “He doesn't think any ... well, um, he thinks all African American fathers aren't around. He was saying you had a deadbeat dad, not that, uh, your father had passed on.”
     
    Kyara's eyes went wide, her breath catching in her throat.
     
    “People have tried to get his head on straight, it just doesn't take,” Jason continued.
     
    "But he said I didn't do anything, just like when my father died," insisted Kyara.
     
    Jason shook his head, his eyes still dark with compassion.
     
    "He doesn't think any Black person does anything, either. He was accusing you of being lazy in general, not of any particular time. He's been spewing his opinion all over town. Too much Jerry Springer and not enough brain, is all. No secret knowledge about your past."
     
    Well, the racism was really obvious ,