12 ~ What to do?Sasha’s house was darker than would be deemed necessary. The curtains hanging from the kitchen window were closed tightly, sealing off any light from the street lamps. The only available light in the room was coming from the crackling fireplace.
The others, who had all arrived before us, were occupying themselves while they waited.
Greg slumped on the couch, staring straight ahead as if he was watching some imaginary football game. Large purple bags hung below his deadened eyes and made him look years older than he actually was. Grief was carved on his face and my heart constricted at the reminder that Brooke wasn’t with us anymore.
I wanted to comfort him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But that wasn’t what he needed. Instead, I sat down next to him and light
