Rachel went home more than demoralized. Just when she had begun to build her hopes that she and Bruce were going to fix things, instead everything just crumbled before her.

Dried streaks of tears lined her face. In the past seventy-two hours, she had cried more than she had ever done in her life. The same Rachel who never cried but rather made others cry. The same Rachel who always had her shít put together. Situations never controlled her. She controlled things.

She stood in front of her father’s house trying hard to compose herself. She hadn’t gone to her house. She couldn't be there. Everything there would remind her...