before there were none

Sometimes she wants to cry out: “Look at me! I am Vera Claythorne Hamilton and I fucking earned my money. I killed a boy!”Sometimes she wonders if she would feel more regret if Hugo had not married her, if he had suspected her in any way. She does not think so, but there is no way of knowing now. Well, there is one way, but she would rather not tell Hugo. Sometimes she wishes she could tell him. Just to have him look at her as something else than the sweet woman he had married. She does not, well aware that her husband is too kind to ever condone what she did for him.