Larry stared blankly at that face, feeling as if an invisible hand were squeezing his heart so tightly that he could barely breathe.
How much pain must she have been in? Quincy hated pain more than anything.
Even if she accidentally nicked her finger while cutting vegetables, she would run up to him holding up her injured finger, looking all miserable and pitiful, begging him for a band-aid.
When the billboard came crashing down, did she feel pain? Was she scared?
In her last moments, did she think of him, of their quarrel, of all those hurtful words that had been said?
"Ah, Q-Quincy..." A ragged, choked voice forced its way from the depths of Larry's throat.
In the ice-cold room, Larry pressed his hands to his face, but his grief welled up as tears gushed out between his fingers, sc
