DAHLIA 

This was the fifth ice cream parlor the driver had driven us to, to no avail.

I was this close to shitting my pants. As for tears, I’d cried them to the point where I couldn’t conjure more salty emotions even if I squeezed my eyes till they bulged from their pockets.

Even the cab driver couldn’t help but throw sympathetic glances at me through the rearview mirror.

Panic and thoughts of the worst was wearing me so thin I wouldn’t be surprised if I got worn out into oblivion.

Zac had been quiet as well. He didn’t have any more comforting words for me, plus he wasn’t even...