It’s too fucking late. I can’t unhear what he said…any more than I can unsee the images his words conjure up. Images I’ve never even fucking considered, as if some part of me just…knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And now he’s given me no choice but to confront them. Confront this. Reality. Because if it’s not this one, where Izzy’s gone…dead… It’s the one where it’s Jeremy, who I’ve lost instead—Jeremy, who’s been missing; Jeremy who’s dead. And I— I can’t. I can’t.
