“There’s gotta be shit growing in here that you don’t need to be inhaling.” “Stop talking.” “Start listening.” She levels with me. “I’m not leaving.” Figured as much. “Even if this place is making you sick? You can’t go to work or school if you’re feeling like—” “Please don’t,” she cuts me off, eyes glazed but hard on my face. “Don’t show that you care. That makes… It’s hard for me, okay?”
