Amelia
I call mom and spend an hour with her over the phone, the longest conversation we've had this month. She asks me whether I'll show up this weekend (I completely forgot about that) and I tell her it's still on. It's a good opportunity since I no longer have to show up at The Lounge and I'll have plenty of time and space to really think about this.
I'm about to hang up when she tells me Devon's mother died.
"It was strange," she confesses. "One minute she was absolutely fine and the next she was having convulsions."
"This happened at the fair?"
"In front of everyone," she says with a sigh. "We've been trying to contact Devon, but you know how he is. He only came here to take you away. God, I should've never let that happen. I shouldn't have trusted him." I don't like talking
