“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, leaning heavily against me on the staircase. “I ruined our last day together.” “Today isn’t our last day together,” I replied, taking all her weight as I led her back to her room. “We have eighty years’ worth of tomorrows to spend together.” When I pulled back the covers and helped her into bed, I locked eyes on a large bloodstain on her pajama bottoms.
