❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
Arizona pouted as she looked up at her best friend. When did they give her drugs? She didn’t remember being stabbed with a huge-ass 29-gauge either. She chuckled lightly before relaxing against the bed.
Arizona looked up at Teddy and noticed her friend hadn’t said anything about Aaron. Why hadn’t she said anything about him? Frowning, she looked up at Teddy and could tell she was trying to talk but couldn’t. “Teds? What’s going on?”.
The question hit her like a hurricane; fierce, unforgiving, relentless. Teddy wished in vain that she might be able to give Arizona a different answer than the one she had, but no such saving g r a c e ever came.
The question hit her like a hurricane; f i e r c e,
unforgiving, relentless. Teddy wished in vain
that she might be able to
give Arizona a different
answer than the one she had, but no such saving
grace
ever came. It was bitter sadness that filled
her now, aging her eyes well
beyond her years
——
just as Cristina had dealt her the blow so
many years before, Teddy found herself in the
very same place: “Aaron… Aaron is dead.”
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