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Maybe there’s not even such a thing as good; maybe there are only shades of gray and circumstances and people reacting to them in myriad ways. Maybe no one should be surprised by anything anyone does. Maybe we’re all just animals trying to survive.
Hard fact.
“It’s awful that she’s gone,” Haley said. “The other things my sister did, the things people like to blame her for—I can hear it in their voices, that they blame her—is being promiscuous, by some definitions, and drinking that night, or so some reports say, and now, as we know, being pregnant . . . but those things don’t mean she should have lost her life.”
Yes, Haley!
“How could you have lied to me about her? Don’t you understand, I loved her so much more than I love you!”
As she crossed the coffee shop, she thought of Emma, her first and truest love, imagining what it would be like if she were still here.
Every fucking day.
