5O

I go back to check when she tweeted. Thirteen minutes ago. I decide to send her a direct message.

When you make some confession at thirteen to a total stranger you never imagine at some point in the future that innocent confession will be the beginning of the end.

Petra was her name. I meet her in the streets months after our house was burned down. I was angry and mourning. I just needed to let it all out. She was a meth addict, never sober. I told her everything, She nicknamed me sour honey. I just needed someone to talk to and I was sure she would not remember the next day. And there's only one way to see if she remembers. I message her; Do you remember me?

The reply is instant, of course, sour honey.

"We are almost done," Quinn says to me. I shake my absentmindedly focused on my phone.

I decide to play it cool to see how much she remembers, How are you?

Petra: Am clean now, and started my rehab centre. Are you still sour, honey?

It is a simple question but with a lot of weight?