Kyle lifted his glass of water to his lips and took a sip as he watched her over the glass. Beaten, broken, that's what she was, or what she had been rather. He meant to change that s**t and give her back what it was she thought she'd lost. And he wasn't going to be nice about that s**t either.
"Are any of them still your friends? Anyone come around?" Why was he asking her these questions? What difference did it make? Still, she answered even though the answer made her feel ashamed.
"No, no one. But then again, I stopped answering the door."
"How hard did they try?" There was no answer she could give. In the beginning, when she'd been moving from couch to couch until she could find a place to stay, some of them had made an effort to call to check up on her. But then, after everything
