“Can you…” I speak through the tight lump in my throat. “Can you call Dean and ask him to come over?” I don’t check her face to gauge her reaction. I don’t need to, because I hear the bewilderment loud and clear in her voice. “Dean?” She pauses. “Dean Di Laurentis?” “Yes.” I curl up again, tucking my head against the pillow. “You want me to call Dean.” “Yes.” “Dean Di Laurentis?” “Yes.” I lick my dry lips, which are salty from my tears. Tears that won’t fucking stop falling. “Please…just call him. I…” I feel my entire face collapsing again. “I need him.”
