Savannah Abbott had the best laugh. Always had. She was the one person who could bring it out of me because she was funny as hell. At least, she used to be. She also used to be a scrawny little thing, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. But today, long caramel-brown waves ran down her back, and she didn’t look like the sixteen-year-old teenager who’d left town in a hurry. Who’d left me.
