It was the evening of our prom, the final dance of our high school careers. I would rather pluck out my own eyeballs with a hot poker than go, but Cleo had begged me, and of course, I couldn’t find the will to tell her no. She was a beautiful girl and popular, but she still had a shyness and an edge of fear from what had happened to her mum, making her hesitate about social situations. If it made her feel better to go with me, I’d happily go as her guard dog.
