“We spent two months talking, Lorenzo. Two months of you being the first person I texted in the morning, and two months of you being the last person I spoke to before I went to sleep. It was nearly impossible to get you to share anything personal, but when you did—like that story about when your uncle broke your nose—it felt like we were finally getting somewhere.” She holds my stare and forces me to look into her glassy eyes. “During that time, I thought what we had was unique. That it was real.”
