CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A calmness rushes over me, just like that fateful day seven years ago, when I realized there might be something significantly wrong with me.

"Where are you?" I ask as I pick up my bag.

If I go straight to the bus stop and maybe get on a bus in the next two hours, I can reach her in ten hours. I should check the bus schedule online.

"I locked myself in the bathroom." She sobs quietly.

"Okay, listen to me carefully. I need you to get out of there and go somewhere safe, maybe go to that colleague's place you're always talking about."

In a lot of ways, Phoebe is just like me. We don't make friends easily because we learned early on that we can't trust anyone but ourselves. She might have always been popular, but she knows how to keep people at arm's length. She's mentioned one colleague about three times in the last year she has worked at the cosmetic counter, but anywhere is safer than where she is right now.

"I'm scared, sissy." She breathes into the phone, and I'm again reminded o