No one knew all of the things that Sister Henry went through. She was my Aunt Linda, but most people knew her as Sister Henry.
What I have to tell you is not easy to say. It's a hard truth. It's one of those things that you'd rather not say. Bury it and pretend like nothing ever happened. Keep it to yourself. Nobody wants to hear this. No one who knew Sister Henry wants to know what I have to tell them. Though some probably suspect it. I know what that's like. It may not seem that way since God is often giving me hard truths to tell, this one has been the hardest to tell. This one, He commanded me to tell you. This one He said is urgent and told me to write the story now and to tell the truth about it all.
The truth is, when Sister Henry died, I felt it earlier that day. I didn't know it was her, I didn't know what it was that I felt, but as soon as I was told that she passed, it all came to me. More than that, I knew what she had done.
The thing about a hard truth is that the hardest truths come when we have to face ourselves.