Billy snatched the money and dashed to the hospital without even sparing me a glance. The night wind was biting cold as I crouched by the roadside, huddled under the warm yellow glow of the streetlight.
I wanted to cry, but no tears would fall. Snowflakes, indifferent to my sorrow, settled on my lashes, cold and biting.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over me. I looked up, and I could never forget.
Jasmine appeared, holding an umbrella, shielding me with one hand, and reaching out with the other:
"Mandy... let's head home."
*
If I had looked closer, I would have seen her nose was red, twitching now and then. Her dark eyes reflected my image, reminiscent of the day we first crossed paths years ago.
A defiant young girl standing her ground against a group. They called her names—illegitimate,
