Running. Bashing against the shoulders of strangers who recoiled when they saw me. Shouting Jessi’s name.
Sour, breathless sobs caught in my throat. Sweat streaming down my back, clotting in my hair. My heart thrashing like some dying thing.
It was no use.
She was long gone.
And I was falling apart. I stopped, eyes full of water, and dry-heaved stringy bile into the gutter. Then I started to cry in earnest.
What had I done?
The look on Jessi’s face was scored into me and I was never going to forget it for as long as I lived.
Or forgive myself.
Oh God, oh God, would she?
I pulled out my phone with damp, shaky hands and rang her. No answer. Tried again. Straight to, “The person you are trying to reach is not available.” I knew she never bothered with messages but I left her one any
