TWENTY-EIGHT

“He had better not,” Starr had said with a frown, lifting her legs up to put on the chair, getting a bit comfortable.

Sorcha noticed how relaxed and comfortable she had gotten, and that made her feel lighter, like some burden had been taken off her. It was like a snippet of the old Starr, and that felt like a reminder that old Starr was still present and available. “Whenever I did come over to you place,” Sorcha had said, causing Starr to become conscious once more and tensing. “You weren’t exactly the nicest.” Starr felt a certain type of warmth rush round her body, as she was filled or wrapped with sadness. All the regret she had been trying to avoid, appeared right in her presence.

She didn’t reply Sorcha, but instead looked away in hope that Sorcha was going to notice she didn’t want to talk about it and drop the topic. She wasn’t ready yet.

And as she hoped, Sorcha didn’t press on, but rather continued her story. “I do have friends, but I’m not exactly c