chapter 18
10:30 p.m.
Cassandra put down Joshua’s latest letter and sat on her couch with the stack of his earlier letters next to her, watching her phone, screen-down, vibrate its way across the ottoman in front of her in a slow, intentional crawl. With each new text Ryan sent, it dragged its way closer to the edge. Soon, it would nose-dive onto the hardwood floor. She imagined it lying there, shuddering for breath, pleading for resuscitation. Untouched, its battery would eventually fail. Expire. And the texts would finally end.
So unceremonious, thought Cassandra, so ungracious, as she imagined the eventual funeral and the epitaph: They will surely label this one, “Death By Excessive Texts.”
Mar was right. Her relationship with Ryan was not fine. Well, not fine anymore. But she didn’
