My phone pings in my hand, and I look down to see that is Zoe. I swear we feel each other’s pain. I dial her, and she answers with a low tone. “Don’t tell me.” “He broke up with me,” I say, putting my hand to my mouth to stop the sobs from ripping through me. “I’ll be there in ten,” she says and disconnects, and I know that wherever she is, she will be here in ten minutes.
