“Will it always be like this?” she asks so fucking softly. The public is against us. Her old friends aren’t listening to her protests or the law. The best she can do is ignore all of it and focus on staying healthy. “No, Calloway,” I tell her fucking strongly. Her eyes meet mine. “It’s going to be better than this, but you’re tough enough to walk through shit and cheer on the other side. I know you are.” Her smile briefly toys with her lips. “Will you walk through shit with me?” “Every fucking day of my life.”
