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Forgotten	By : Faline Category: Smallville > General Views: 1569 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Forgotten
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Forgotten
by Faline

Summary: He doesn�t
remember. But, he needs to know.
A/N: Don�t own ANYTHING except for my OC. MR is hot and tasty, just as Lex is and I
enjoy playing with both of them. They�re
both fantastical.

It�s a pretty damn convincing dummy, if I�m completely
honest about it. They have the hair
right, or at least how my hair used to look.
The look on its face looks just like my sleeping face, and there are
even the scars that have collected on my skin over the years.

Everyone around me is sold.
They�re crying and weeping, their heads in their hands and their
shoulders shaking. I never knew that I
meant this much to this many people and I silently thank Lionel Luthor for
giving me the chance to see what it�s like when everyone thinks I�m gone.

I just stand next to my coffin and look. It�s such a pretty coffin, and so fitting for
my new look. I think that�s what the old
bastard was going for. Dark walnut
stained black, red satin outlining the doll in my favorite dress outfit. I wish, momentarily, that I�d been able to
take that with me when I�d left, but I hadn�t.
And now, the skirt and top that had collectively cost me my whole
paycheck for one week will go into the ground and no one will see how good I
looked into it again.

I�m pushed aside by Clark and Chlo. I take perverse pleasure in the fact that
they don�t recognize me. The dark brown
hair, stained with streaks of black and red, hides the blond they grew to see
as trademark and the dark glasses protect them from seeing the blue eyes with
the fleck of green that Clark once told me was my
defining point.

I didn�t let Lionel rebuild my face. I like my face. I�ve had it for all twenty years of my life
and I�m not quite ready to part with it.
I just hope he doesn�t notice me here.
He told me that if I ever step foot in Smallville again, he�ll drop me
off at the ends of the earth and leave me there.

�Everyone, please take your seats. We�re going to begin now.� The mass of humanity that�s congregated
around my coffin wades to their seats. I
plop my butt down in the back, where I can watch everyone.

Taking stock of those in attendance, a sorrow flames up
inside of me at not seeing that infamous bald head. Of all the people here, he�s the most
deserving of this moment. He was the
one, albeit indirectly, that put �me� in a coffin. It was his love that drove me here.

But he doesn�t remember any of it. That hurts even more and a tear leaks out
before I can stop it. I take a shaky
breath and wipe my hand across my cheek.
Someone holds out a handkerchief for me.
I take it, without a word of thanks, and dry my wet face. Only after I�m done and I inhale to calm my
senses do I realize that I know this scent.
It�s his. I glance out of the corner of my eye and
can�t help the small half smile. He�s
here, sitting next to me.

Chlo takes her place at the pulpit. �I can�t tell you all that Jenn was my best
friend. We were usually at each other�s
throat. But that�s why we were
friends. She always pushed me past all
this crap of life at 16. Through her
advice and wisdom, she taught me to see that it is possible to be happy with
your self no matter what. That was her
strength. She gave endlessly to the
people around her, expecting nothing in return except to see them happy.� The girl�s eyes scanned the crowd, picking
out the people that she was implying I helped.

I sit lower in my seat as her gaze makes it to the back row. She isn�t looking at me however, but the man
at my side. She knew about us. She was the only one who I told and now,
she�s the only one that knows. I�m dead,
and Lex doesn�t remember the three weeks we spent attached at the hip.

�Her death was senseless but I hope she realizes that we
won�t forget her.�

I can�t help the snort.
I�ve seen this happen so many times through out the year. A friend dies. It usually takes about two months for
everyone to stop talking about it. Less
if it happens during the school year.
The man next to me shifts and I feel his gaze on me. He may be offended that I just snorted at my
own funeral. I�m not sure why. The last time I saw him, his eyes passed over
me in complete disinterest.

Chlo puts her hand to her own weeping eyes and leaves the
podium. Clark is
next, and my insides twist. If Chlo is
the only one that knew about me and Lex, then I�m one of the only ones that
knows what Clark truly is. �I met Jenn in Physics. She was a senior that had to take a freshman
course for credits. She looked like she
had a hundred better things to be doing than sitting with us lowly fourteen
year olds. But, she had something in her
that I couldn�t resist.�

Oh Clark. He must still have a slight crush on me, even
after a year. I remember when he first
said hello to me. I thought his eyes
were going to pop out of his head. But,
no, he�d asked me if I�d like a tutor. I
said yes, of course. I really suck at
physics.

�Her life was a testament to her strength. She was alone in the world for so much of her
time here, and yet she was always happy, always ready to lend a helping
hand. I remember one weekend where she
lived at the farm with me and my parents, just to help me with an English
paper. I won�t say that it was the most
enjoyable of weekends, but she did it for me.�

A flash of falling erupts in my mind. The utter terror I felt at losing control of
my movement and the sight of the floors coming way to fast for my liking. And then, Clark, there
and holding me. Telling me that
everything was all right. When he
realized what he�d done, his eyes went wide and he started to sputter. That was when I showed him. When we swapped secrets and cemented a bond.

Clark moves away and Lana stands to
speak. �Jenn was a good friend. During the last year, she worked for me at
the Talon and I believe she was the best waitress to ever grace the town of Smallville. She had such a kind heart and listened to me
pour my heart out more than once. I�m
going to miss our late night talks. I�m
going to miss going shopping in Metropolis with her. Most of all, I�m going to miss her
smile. It always made the world around
her brighter.�

More tears are coming.
It hasn�t fully set in, what�s happened.
The last four days are more of a blur than I�d like to admit, and I
guess I never realized what this would be like.
These are my friends, my confidants.
They know secrets about me and vice versa. And now, I have to be leaving. I have to get out.

I stand in a rush and brush out of the aisle. Half the people there are probably wondering
who the hell I am and why I was there in the first place, but I don�t
care. The sick and twisted amusement of
seeing my own funeral is now just horrifying.

The air is fresh in my lungs as I take deep breaths and try
to expel the smell of the funeral home.

�I don�t like funerals either.� I gasp as the voice slides over me, laced
with sorrow. I turn and look into the
face of the man I loved once. He�s not
looking at me. He�s looking out into the
street.

�It�s not the funeral.
It�s the people.� That gets his
attention and the eyes that I�ve compared to a hundred different things send a
shiver through my soul. When I leave
today, the look in his eyes will be the one I take with me.

�I haven�t seen you before.
Are you a relative?�

�You could say.� I
don�t give him any more. I really need a
smoke. And a drink. I reach into my purse and dig around for my
smokes, but don�t find them. Lionel
probably took them, that damned old bastard.
He�s ruined everything. Lex and I
were going to be so happy. And he ruined
it all.

More tears drip and I don�t mean for them to appear, but it
just happens and I can�t help it. It�s
too much. My friends think I�m strong,
but I�m the weakest person on the face of the planet. Swayed by money and threats. Leaving them, making them feel like this.

�Are you all right?�

He takes a step closer and I can smell his cologne. Its light, just a hint of heaven, like it
always was. I used to tell him that his
scent made my head dizzy and he�d laugh at me, pulling me close. I wish he�d pull me close now. But he won�t.
Never again.

�Yeah, I�m fine.
Thanks for asking.� Giving him a
patented �fuck off� smile, I turn and start to walk away. I�m due in Metropolis in five hours and I
don�t have a car yet. I�m hoping to
catch a bus, but if I don�t hurry, I may have to hitch hike.

Lex grabs my arm while I�m still within reach. �What�s your name?� His gaze is looking over my face and I can
almost imagine out of all the people in this place he�s the one that�ll look
past superficial changes in appearance and shout to the heavens that I�m alive.

�I don�t have a name.�
I try to pull my arm out of his grasp, but he holds tight.

�You said you were something of a relative. What did you mean?�

I�m just getting frustrated now. I tear the glasses from my face and stand toe
to toe with him, pushing aside the familiarity of the action. �Just what I meant. Why don�t you drop your arm and let me get on
with my life Lex? You�ve moved on
perfectly fine with yours; I should at least have the same privilege.�

He continues to hold me.
Sighing deeply, I whisper.
�Please. You don�t know me. You don�t understand me. You have no right to question me. I never questioned you.�

His eyes widen and his hand comes up to my face. I can�t help but lean into his touch. �Who are you?�

My own hand rises and I focus my thoughts on a happier
time. Ten
AM on a Tuesday morning with Lex still in bed, running idle fingers
down my back. He kissed my spine, one vertebra
at a time and licked a path across my tattoo.
His whispered �I love you� still haunts my mind, even now. And now it will haunt his mind as well.

My hand drops. He
blinks a few times, rapidly and I�m pulling away as he loses grip on what just
happened. �What-?�

�I�m your past Lex, that�s all you need to know. That�s all I�ll give you because I loved you
once, and we had something that I don�t think many people get. But, you mustn�t look for more. If you do, I�m lost and your father will make
you forget even more of your life. He�ll
hurt you again, and I never wanted to cause you pain.�

If he touches me again, I�ll scream fire and bring the cavalry
running. They always tell women to yell
fire if they�re being raped because no one responds to help. Well, besides Clark. Realizing that if Clark
is paying attention to anything except my coffin, he�ll hear this and then I�ll
be screwed, I turn and walk away.

~!~!~!~!~!~

The hallways are silent.
For the last two weeks, they�ve always been silent. I know that it�s what this place was like
before I went crazy, but it still feels wrong.
It feels like someone is missing.
There�s a flash of skin in my mind.
That damned girl at the funeral yesterday did something to me. I don�t know what it was, whether it was
fantasy or suggestive thought, but she planted a doubt in me.

Who the hell is she?

�Sir, the files you requested are here.�

I smile up at Thomas and take the manila folder. The name Jennifer Marie Luke stares back at
me. I open the information I�ve gathered
on her. It�s mostly school records and
state information. Birthday, birth
place, family. I never really knew the
girl, other than a quasi employee that Lana spoke highly of, but something
about that funeral just doesn�t make sense.

More like someone.
The girl had said she was a relative.

There are a few pieces of paper stuck in the back. I immediately recognize it as a Torch
file. One of the many that my father
deleted off Chloe�s computer when the meteor freak assassin was caught. It lists Jenn as a possible �mutant�. That�s such a bad word for the
description. I�ve been called a lot of
things over the years, but mutant has to be the strangest.

�Subject shows the
possible ability to recall past events and transfer them to other people
through touch. This hypothesis comes
recently, after she found yours truly sobbing her eyes out. She touched my arm and I had a glimpse of a
sun warmed beach in Hawaii. Subject spent four years of her life in the
islands. This theory is supported by
similar encounters with both Pete and Clark, who are still convinced it was
just their imagination.�

Well well Miss Sullivan, thank you so much.

So, Jennifer Luke had the ability to transfer memory through
touch. Again, the flash from the
previous morning, wasting time in bed with a delicious looking woman, confuses
me. Why would anyone have a memory of me
doing that if I can�t remember myself?
Why would this unknown girl have the same ability as a dead woman?

There�s a picture of the recently deceased clipped to the
inside. Her smiling eyes look almost
familiar. But from where? The last time I saw her, well before she was
resting in her final bed, I�d been in the Talon. She was serving the table across the room
from me and when she�d caught sight of me, she looked happier. And then, it disappeared. Why?

My hand rubs my forehead.
I just wish I knew. I just wish I
could remember.

~!~!~!~!~!~

�Miss Luke-�

�Don�t call me that Luthor.
That�s not my name any more. You
saw to that.�

The elder Luthor circles me, as he is apt to do when he�s
trying to be threatening. �Miss Dunn, it has come to my attention that
you visited Smallville yesterday. Not
only that, but you attended your own funeral and spoke to my son. I thought we had an agreement.�

My heart freezes.
Damn, I�ve been caught. He must
have had me followed. Why am I surprised? That particular trait runs in the
family. �We have an agreement Lionel.
However, I found it impossible to stay away. How often does one get to attend their own
funeral?�

�I was under the impression that the terms of our deal were
very clear and you have violated two of them in a very short amount of
time. Surely you remember what the
consequences of your actions were defined as?�

He stops in front of me and I stare him down. Not too many people can do it, but Lionel and
I have seemed to always see eye to eye on most things. That�s one of the reasons I�m not dead. He apparently �admires� my tenacity and
ability. �Yes, I remember. You�re going to send me to the ends of the
earth and leave me there.�

His lips twitch. I
think he wants to ask me something, but doesn�t want to broach the
subject. I know what he wants, and I�m
willing to give it to him, if he will do me one last favor before every record
of me being here in Metropolis under this new name is forgotten. �Lionel, I know what you want. I will give it to you, in abundance, if you
grant me one small wish.�

�I am the one holding the power here Miss Dunn, not
you. Do not presume that you have any
right to demand things.�

I sigh and grab his hands.
Focusing hard, I drag back memories that I stole from Lex, months
ago. His mother. It was a family trip, and I�ve never seen
either of the Luthor gentlemen look so pleased to be in each other�s company as
Lillian kissed them both. I break the
contact and Lionel takes a few steps back.

I follow him, step for step.
�Give me $10,000 dollars and send me to Hawaii
and I will never seek your family out again.
I will give you every memory that I have of your wife as your son saw
her and our deal will be finished.�

His chest rises and falls with panicked breath. His eyes dart about the room, looking first
to desk and the picture of Lillian he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer. Then, to the last public picture of his son
and himself, taken years ago at the Smallville plant. Finally, they come back to me and I know I�ve
won.

�If I give you this, you will cease to exist in my mind and
if I find you�ve contacted my son or anyone else in Smallville again, I will
kill you. Is this clear to you Miss
Luke?�

�As glass Lionel. Clear as glass.�

He grunts and makes his way to the couch, where he
relaxes. We�ve done this many times in
the past few weeks. His memory is full
of his wife. And a son that had the
makings of the greatest leader in the history of mankind. It makes more than enough sense for him to
want to bury himself in the past when the present is so glaringly horrible.

~!~!~!~!~!~

Jennifer Luke is not dead.
The body that rests in the Smallville
Memorial Cemetery
is a doll. Very convincing, but not very
original, especially for someone like my father. The girl I saw outside of the funeral home
was Jennifer Luke and she�s disappeared off the radar.

I rub my forehead, feeling like I�ve almost figured out the
mystery, yet it remains so far from unsolved that it�s laughable. Which is probably why I�ve
come to Chloe. If anyone can dig
up information and stay under the radar, it�s that girl.

�Lex, I don�t understand why you want to know about
Jenn. She�s dead. Leave it be.�
There�s something in Chloe�s eyes that tell me that she knows more about
the girl than she lets on. But then
again, Chloe always knows more than she lets on. Always.

�I�m looking into it for a friend.�

�Who Lex? Clark? Lana?
Me? We all know that she killed
herself. The case is so clean it�s
squeaky.�

I lean against her desk and just smile down at her non chalantly. She looks
like such a proper editor, sitting calmly behind her desk. �That doesn�t bother you?�

�No, it doesn�t. It�s
been hard enough as is. I don�t have any
desire to drag this back into the open.�

Chloe seems to honestly want to forget, which is really
strange for her. I dig out the surveillance
photo that my people acquired from a bus station in Metropolis. The girl from the funeral home, this Jenn, is
looking straight into the camera, her sun glasses firmly in place. I hand the photo to Chloe. �All right.
We�ll drop this issue. I have
another I need some help with. I need to
find this woman.�

She takes the photo and studies it for a moment before she
looks back up at me. �Who is she
Lex? An old lover? I noticed she was sitting next to you at the
funeral.�

�Perhaps she is. I
spoke with her as she left. She seemed
to insinuate that we knew each other and that we�d been . . . intimate. But I don�t remember. I�d like to, however.�

�That�s impossible.�
The blonde�s mouth drops open.
She didn�t mean to say that.

�Why Chloe? Why is
that impossible? I could have met her in
Metropolis. Or maybe, she was visiting
Smallville while-�

�Trust me Lex. This
woman was not sleeping with you. She
wasn�t in Smallville during the time you can�t remember.�

Interesting. �Well,
regardless, could you try and track something down on her real quick?�

The reporter�s face twitches, but she pulls her chair up to
her desk and starts to type frantically.
After a few moments, she glances up at me. �Why are you doing this Lex?�

�Because I need to know Chloe. I can�t just let seven weeks of my life slip
through my fingers.�

A long hard glare is all I get in return before she turns
back to the trace. Without a name,
she�ll have to rely on security cameras.
After ten minutes, a grin breaks out across her face. �We have something. A woman fitting this description boarded a
flight to Wailea, Hawaii
two days ago.�

I almost want to kiss her.
Instead, I take the print out she hands me and make my way to my
car. I have to get home and pack. I feel like taking a vacation. Chloe catches me before I can make it to the
Porsche. �Lex! I forgot.
You gave this to me before you were committed.�

Without any further explanation, she goes back inside the
school and I�m left staring down at a slip that says my pictures were finished
four weeks ago. Well, that�s odd.

~!~!~!~!~!~

It�s good to be back.
So very very good. The wind pulls at the serape I�ve tied over
my bathing suit bottoms and my sunglasses hold the hair away from my eyes. I stare out across the ocean and smile. It�s so beautiful here. If I was the poetic type I�d say it�s heaven
on earth.

Turning from the ocean, I make my way back up the beach,
towards the hut that I�m renting at the moment.
I drop my bag at the entrance and walk aimlessly through the rooms. Now that I�m here, I don�t know what to do
with myself. I was so excited about
coming back, but what�s there to come back too?
I�ve no friends, no family here.
No one.

Except the memories.

In my bedroom, my fingers find the photo album that I hid
from Lionel. There are some things in
life he can take from me. He can take my
identity. I never liked it anyways. He can take my home. That apartment sucked. What he can�t take is the feelings I had for
his son. The feelings I�m afraid I still
have.

The first page is full of ninja shots. There�s a picture of Lex at his desk, arguing
with someone on the phone. The next is
one of me, trying to figure out my damn Trig homework. He�d snapped it as I lay sprawled across that
wonderful bed of his. The last one was a
picture that Chloe took. We�d headed up
to Metropolis for the weekend, with Chloe tagging along just for the hell of
it. The picture itself was snapped at
this slightly classy restaurant that we�d convinced Lex to take us too. I was almost in his lap, laughing about
something while he just smile down at me.

Regrets bubble into my throat, bitter and hateful. Damn Lionel to hell.

I can�t look at any of the other pictures. I know what I�ll find. Happy, smiling faces. Laughter.
Love. All the things that have
been taken from me. I lay back and just
close my eyes, focusing on the sound of the waves and the gentle sway of the
trees outside my window as they bend in the breeze. There�s no reason to remember the past.

~!~!~!~!~!~

I push the shades higher on my face and repress a
shudder. After spending all summer on an
island, I don�t really want to be on another one, but I have to finish the
mystery. A nice woman in a suit gives me
a lei. I smile
at her before starting my questions. She
is the director of the airport. She was
working when the girl�s plane landed, and yes she remembers a woman with black
and red hair. In fact, she�s known the
girl for a while. She went to school
with the girl, years ago, and suggested a place for her to stay until she found
a job.

I took the address and the directions and thanked the
woman. This was too easy. How could Dad leave such a traceable trail? Unless he wanted her found.

The pictures in my pocket burn a hole. The images are burnt into my brain, after
pouring over them for any clues whatsoever why they were taken. From the nature, it�s glaringly obvious that
I was involved with the girl from the funeral home, despite Chloe�s
denials. And, it�s obvious that the girl
is Jennifer Luke.

The drive is short, and sadly very slow. She�s staying on the beach in what looks like
a classic bungalow. From what I�ve seen
and read, it fits her natural and carefree outlook. Rising from the car, I catch a glimpse of
someone walking the beach. It looks like
her.

I dispose of the coat I�m wearing. It�s too damned hot. My shirt sleeves are rolled up and I take off
my shoes. After those three months on
that island, I never thought I�d willingly try to enjoy a similar environment. Something about this girl makes me want to
though.

She sees me approach, and her spine stiffens. I wonder if I�ll see that tattoo I kissed and
licked my way across if she turns around.

�What are you doing here?�

I smile at her question.
�Trying to remember.�

She snorts and comes to stand face to face with me, almost
on my toes. When she�d done this at the
funeral home, I couldn�t help but feel intimidated. She seemed larger than life then, such a
mystery that I couldn�t help but be drawn in by her strange hair and hidden
eyes. Now . . . well, now I know who she
is. Now, I just want to know why.

�What makes you think I can help you Lex?�

I pull the pictures out and shift through them, until I find
the picture of Jenn on her stomach, her hair brushed off her skin and her
tattoo vibrant against the pale flesh. �You
gave me the memory of this woman outside that funeral home. I want to know why?� I grasp a lock of her hair and tug it
lightly. �I want to know why you died
and changed your appearance.�

I take a step closer. �I want to know
what we had between us and why it ended.�

Her eyes are vibrant and alive, sparkling with an inner madness that she has to
see reflected in my own. She looks down
at the picture and then back up at me.
There�s a sneer on her face. �I
don�t know why you�re claiming I�m a dead girl and brandishing her picture like
it�s a damning fact. I don�t have your
answer Mr. Luthor. Have a nice day.�

She turns and starts to stalk away. I catch her arm, yet again, but I don�t turn
her. Instead, my eyes are glued to her back,
where the unmarred skin mocks me. I run
my fingers between her shoulder blades.
I don�t feel any covered scars.
No ink peaks out behind her tanning skin. She has no tattoo. �What the hell is going on?�

I feel like yelling, but I won�t. This has to lead back to my father and
somehow I have to convince this woman to tell me. She turns her head and glances at me. �I�m not the woman you�re looking for. I never was.�

My grip falls as my hands shake with frustration and
anger. She takes this opportunity and
starts back towards her hut. �Then what
were you? A jilted lover? Some small town girl that I fucked and
left? What? Why won�t you just tell me?�

Her steps stop and she turns. There�s pain written across her pretty face
like the most eloquent verse of Shakespeare.
�Because, if I tell you I�m dead.
And you�ll forget again. It�s
better this way, trust me.�

She continues, and I follow this time. Across the sand and up the steps to her
door. For a moment, I think she�s going
to slam and lock it, but she leaves it open and I enter. The walls are bare, the halls are empty. She wasn�t planning on leaving,
obviously. I find her in the bedroom,
that�s bare except for a photo album that�s lying on the bed. I reach for it, but her hand stops me.

Just like the last time she touched me, a vibrant vision
filled my head. I was screaming, ranting
about this woman, as a blond, meeting with my father and telling him my
secrets. I hit her. She fell to the floor with a cry, clutching
her face. She sobbed and told me to go
to hell and I, ever the calm gentleman, replied that I was already there, and
it was her fault.

Her hand fell away and I stared at her with wide, amazed
eyes. She rubbed her hand against her
sarong, almost like she was trying to erase the memory from her skin. The pictures in my pocket still burned and
now I had another piece to the puzzle.

Taking a dare, I step closer to her. �Does that happen every time you touch
someone?� She shakes her head mutely,
looking down and away as I take another step closer. �Does it happen when you�re remembering? Do you even mean to do it?� I�m circling her now. I think that perhaps I�m turning into my
father, harassing a helpless female with snide comments and physical bravado.

�Normally yes, I do mean to do it. However, when my emotion are high, it just
happens. I can�t control it then.� Hmmm, interesting. Emotions are interesting creations. I pause behind her and lean forward. There�s a scent on her that I can almost
forget, but it�s liked its been burned into my psyche. My hands rise and I brush her hair off her
neck. She takes a deep breath and lets
it out in a shudder. I can�t tell if it�s
fear or desire, but I can find out.

My hand clamps down on her skin, and I�m back in my bed,
thrusting into the moaning body beneath mine.
Blue and green eyes bore into my soul and a small smile appeared on her
lips. She pulled me down and kissed me
senseless, making me lose my rhythm.
With a groan, I come inside of her.
I can tell there�s no condom on my dick.

Under my grip, the girl struggles, and I don�t let go. In my mind, the scene continues to play
out. I slip from her body and pull her
close. �I�ll never leave you. I want you to marry me Jenn.�

Her smiling eyes laugh into my face. �You�ve been married twice already; don�t you
think you should wait a few years before you try it again?�

�No, because I�ve never met a woman like you before. You didn�t need witty banter and a meteor
rock induced power to catch my eye and make me fall in love with you.� I kissed her forehead as she curled tighter
into my naked body. �You did that all on
your own; the banter and the powers were just a positive.�

�LET ME GO.� She
shoves me and I stumble back, my legs hitting the bed and sending me sprawling
on her sheets. �DON�T TOUCH ME AGAIN.� She shakes from anger visibly now. I rise and try to apologize. I didn�t mean to upset her. I just want to understand. She backs away from me however.

�Leave. Just go. I don�t ever want to see you again.� The hurt in her tone is enough to convince me
that I�ve done enough for one day. I
look behind me as I�m about to walk out and a sliver of hurt settles in my
stomach as she sobs.
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