I wake the following morning, hurting everywhere. My whole body aches—inside and out.
After purging my guts out, the pain was still there, so I decided to sleep it off, but sleeping without Quinn’s warmth was near impossible. But I must have slept some because it’s now morning.
It’s the day of Hank’s funeral.
The slice of sunlight that pokes its happy head out through the blinds does nothing to transfer any warmth into my life.
I’m dead inside.
I know Quinn’s reason for coming here was to sidetrack me, an attempt to distract me from the reality that by the end of today, Hank will be buried in a small hole in the ground. And I have a sneaking suspicion that’s what Tabitha grilled Quinn about on the phone.
Everyone worries about me like usual—and all I have done is cause them pain.
My
