“You said you wrote about it. Will you read it to me?” Her expression is filled with what looks like fear now, like she’s too scared to go back to that night. Or too scared to take me there with her. I don’t blame her, and I feel bad asking her to, but I want to know. I need to know. If I’m going to drop to my knees in front of Patrick and Grace when I beg them to give her a chance, I need to fully know the person I’m fighting for. Even though at this point she couldn’t say anything that would change my mind about her. I know she’s a good person. A good person who had one bad night. It happens
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