meth heads and druggies who were a drain on the system, nothing more. They were blood-sucking leeches feeding on everything good we tried to build here. It was like taking out the trash.” Hannah said, “I am not trash.” “A different kind of trash. You weren’t good enough for Noah. You never were, never would be. Frankly, I was hoping he’d get rid of you on his own.” “You knew I was alive,” Hannah whispered. “You knew he had me.”
