Everyone else filed out of the room, Wilda throwing a glance behind her, her eyes glistening with tears.
I turned towards Rendor, who was seated beside me, looking much older than he usually did.
“Drew, I… I don’t know how to tell you this, but-”
“What happened,” I said through gritted teeth, I could hear the strain behind my question.
“She… she had a bad head injury… it was… she never had a chance… that she would survive. Drew, I’m… I’m so sorry Drew, this isn’t fair. This isn’t right.”
I turned away from him, “She’s dead,” I said hollowly.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “She died two days ago.”
My eyes were closed, I could see it in my head. Cynthia lying on the sidewalk, blood streaming from her head. Someone nearby was screaming. Rendor was shouting frantically for help.
It took me a second to realize that I was actually screaming, and that my dad was actually yelling, trying to restrain me as I struggled to get away.
I collapsed, sobbing, wishing I could wake up from this nightmare.