“Am I?” she asks. And then, she plunges the sharp tip of the scissors into the middle of her left palm. “Jesus fuck!” I leap off the bed, staring at her hand as blood seeps from the wound. Grabbing the closest thing I can get my hands on, I remove the white pillowcase and, as carefully as I can, take her injured hand in mine. “Why did you do that? Fuck! Let go of the damn scissors.”
