“Was he worth it?” I look at the girl in front of me. Waves of ebony curls frame her delicate face. She tugs off the chunky black sweater she’d been wearing, leaving her in an unholy tight T-shirt and brown pleated skirt that hangs off her waist. “No.” I press my fingers on the bridge of my nose as my eyes close. “But she was.” The line goes dead, and silence is all that’s left.
