She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to, because I can see it now. Not just her similarity to Elijah, but her similarity to the little girl I used to know. But shit, she’s no little girl now. Fourteen years is apparently a long fucking time, which is something I know intellectually, of course, but seeing the evidence of it like this is disorienting. Unreal. Zenny is a woman. A woman I wanted to fuck last night. Little Zenny! And I almost kissed her. I almost— Oh God. I clap a hand over my mouth as the real impact of it all sifts through my thoughts.
