uched my

Are yo

the booth where Ethan and Olivia were laughing, completely unaware

eathe here. I

y felt like lead. The pain in my side was a raging fire now,

foolishness, lying on the floor. I stumbled through the crowd, ignor

nge' s dim opulence. I locked myself in a stall, my back sliding down the cool

his, that had stroked his hair when he pretended to have nightmares. They were

ude bandage was taped to my skin. It was already starting to peel at the

hat had pulled me in. He looked so vulnerable, with his worn-out jeans and soulful eyes. He told me he was trying to make it as a

to prey on my compassion, my loneliness, my deep-seated desire to fix b

in my chest. It wasn' t just grief. It was rage. A quiet,

contacts until I found the name: Professor Thompson. My art professor. The one perso

for the Florence study abroad program, the ve

s late. But I had to do it. Now. Before

a short, s

fessor T

ibility of reapplying for the Florence program? My ci

cer

oe

esperate, foolish hope, but it was the only one I had lef

the restroom door opened. F

Are you i

ed with a fake, manufactured co

res into a mask of neutrality. I stood

eigned worry. "I was so scared. You just disapp

e air between us, obsce

, my own eyes

ice surprisingly steady. "I

this time, I knew the rules. And I knew the price wasn' t

ve it. It was a cheap price to pay for the lesson I had just