Two years ago, she could have written a song about that. She would have jumped at it, unable to stop herself. Now she couldn’t if she tried, and she...had tried. It was no good anymore. The words came out wrong. Even if they were half-right, her voice was no good for it. She couldn’t even sing along with the radio. It hurt too much. Everything she had loved about writing and singing was gone. Not just gone, she reminded herself. You threw it away. Her eyes fell on the old piano in the living. Kyle assumed that the threat of a severe whipping and being literally thrown into the street penniless would get him what he wanted.But while the whipping and homelessness were indeed excellent reasons to acquiesce, it was the guilt, the overwhelming and heart wrenching guilt which most ate at Maria. She simply could not stand to think that she was responsible for what Kyle had become - a meaner, more hateful version of his father. What, she thought, kind of person would he be today if I hadn’t. More

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