Chapter Sixty Two
I sat there looking into the little dressing-table mirror and pulled at my cheeks. Pinching them slightly and hoping it would be enough to put some colour back into them. There was a grayness to my complexion that had only gotten worse in the five days since Pops left us. It had barely seemed more than a day since we had gathered Mamma up and left Pops there in the horrible deathly cold hospital. Poor Luca had had his hands full, trying to get us both to leave. He had told us that he knew we weren't ready but that we never would be, so we just had to force ourselves. He wasn't wrong. Even now, I would be tempted to go back to him if it wasn't for the fact that I knew he was no longer there. The idea of him lying there in the cold just killed me. He had spent his whole life in the warm suns
- Writer
