After grimacing for half an hour or so over what to wear (I go with jeans and a button down shirt—a tiny step up from barn-wear), I head for Val’s. I’m not really looking forward to the party; in fact, when Riley ignored all my calls after our conversation, I debated not going at all. But I still want to protect Val from making a drunken fool of herself, and to protect Riley from… well, as usual, I’d rather not think about it.
I think about it, anyway.
I can hardly wrap my mind around it. It’s so beyond anything I’ve ever had to deal with. In a way, I can sort of grasp how it probably happened—someone told her it would make the pain of losing her dad go away, and it did. But it caused… what? Anorexia? Fear and loathing of humanity in general? Does coke do all that? I sort of assumed it j
