“There is a duffel bag in the hallway closet. “Um…” She closes her eyes to concentrate, a familiar mannerism I’ve seen her pull in class countless times. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close and she’s battered. She looks back at me over her shoulder, as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features schooled, though I’m dying on the inside. Just four white walls, a bed and dresser that doubles as a desk. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings.
Turning the corner into Allie’s room, it’s time to kick myself all over again. It’s elegant and clean and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever.
Cautiously, I walk up the stairs, toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall.
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