When my palm met her skin, the contact was frigid. I wanted to feel her panic, wanted to see anything break through that mask of hers but it was growing clear that she wasn't wearing any. That was exactly how she felt about me, how much she thought about me.

I didn't see it as a threat. I didn't warrant her anger. My throat began to clog, my head pulling me to countless nightmares.

Becca giggled this time in a soft manner that seemed beyond her. It was infuriating. Her hands didn’t even ...