I don’t really know what to do.
I mean, about the Harrison thing.
And about Phil.
He was just out of it. Completely spaced at lunch with this haunted look. I got why he was having a hard time with this—I was having a hard time with this but for a different reason than Phil. He’s an empath, sensitive to others’ feelings. He’d probably stepped into Harrison’s shoes and understood how Harrison was feeling, what he would feel in his place.
But that’s not what I was struggling with.
I couldn’t imagine myself in Harrison’s place.
Couldn’t see things from his perspective.
No, what threw me off was trying to understand why Trevor would just feed Harrison to the wolves like that.
Soft snores, the shift of Phil’s leg against mine—I twirled his hair absentl
