Michael thought back to the moment before the fight at school. When he had looked at Eleanor for support and encouragement, and she had given it to him.
“Let’s get ‘em,” she had said. “Let’s end this.”
Those had been the last words. Michael regretted more than anything that he had not taken her for a walk that final night. That they hadn’t shared one final moment of privacy and intimacy to remember her by forever. Her last words were by no means last words, other than by the only means that count.
Let’s end this.
She hated fights. Eleanor had always made that clear, and yet, she had consistently stepped forward, willing to be in one. Whenever someone was at risk.
He glanced back at the phone and gulped. Michael grabbed his head, trying with all his reason to convince himself not to do
