thirthy-one

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pov juliet

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pov juliet

Casper told us everything and he was not going to help us. The entire drive we didn't say a word. It felt like my brain just stopped working after what he told us. When you think you're just living a normal life, in a normal world. Well, think again. Always keep your mind open for things you first didn't believe in. Because if you don't, like me, it's a lot harder to process when it does enter your life.

'Henry...,'

'Don't. Don't talk to me.'

Before we started to drive back Henry cried for almost ten minutes straight. He cried hard and loud, and I couldn't stop him or comfort him. It is so strange to see a guy cry that hard if he normally walks around like he is the strongest man on campus. How do you comfort someone who's crying and who you actually hate? My heart breaks every time I see someone cry and my gut tells me to try and make them feel better. Even if you don't know that person, or if you hate him.

I never thought about the woman in her fifties and her long white hair and eyepatch again after I had a short conversation with her outside Henry's hospital room. Who would've thought she actually meant what she said. That she needed Henry to stay alive for some reason and that I would understand soon. But did I expect her to be this involved in everything? No.

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