el

to a head tw

, unwelcome sound that ripped me from a shallow,

our son, Colton M

d. The world ti

y. He had been at a party at a friend's hou

ctant. The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a sickly yellow glow on everything. Colton wa

friend, Tiffany. She was a carbon copy of Campbell Kirby-all manufactur

perfectly glossed li

ce loud enough for everyone t

ncomfortably, pulling his arm away from her. His fa

asked, my voice tremblin

on his face was a physical blow. It was

ashamed

oice laced with venom. "Could

ppearance. I had thrown on the first thing I could find-a pair of faded yoga pants and an old cashmere sweater that had seen better da

other. A frantic,

ike I was something he' d scra

carefully constructed over