She gulped at my answer, and tried to get away.

“How old are you?”

No answer. I gave her my sternest look – the one that, according to Ren, was able to curdle milk and cool down boiling water. Ah, well, it seemed to get a response out of her, so who cares even if it attracts roaches?

“Sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Well then, no need to sugarcoat anything,” I said, now putting my hands in my pockets – it was cold, and I had no gloves. “I saw what you did to the bridge.”

The corner of her eye twitched, and her jaw clenched.

“Your boyfriend’s car wasn’t any better.”

“HE’S NOT MY – “

“Boyfriend? Apparently he isn’t, but whoever he is, he shouldn’t elicit such a reaction from you.” I leaned onto the railing, still not breaking eye contact.

“I wanted to crush him. I wanted to see him suffer for what he did to me.”

“Yeah, I wanted to crush my first fiance, too, but I didn’t try bouncing off a bridge. Plus, you wouldn’t see him suffer if you died.”

She looked at me like I had grown another limb.

Nothing new.