“He tries to chuckle, but it splits the cut on his lip again. “There.” I take a step back. “Bet you’re feeling brand new.” “How was New York?” he asks. I can’t even think about that city without wanting to throw up. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to set foot in it again. “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Don’t pretend we’re friends.” I close the first-aid kit, push it back into the cabinet, and make my way upstairs to finish my entry. When I get to my bed, the little black book is not there anymore.”
