“Yeah.” I pull my phone out to check the time. “I gotta go.” I’d better leave, but I’m paralyzed. “My permit won’t allow me to drive in another forty minutes.” I say this, but my feet don’t move. It’s dark, and the sweat cooling under my shirt gives me a chill. There’s a jacket in the back seat, but I don’t bother getting it. A small breeze ripples the blue tarp covering Octavia.
“She was my dream horse.”
The words spill out and drag what’s left of my heart with them.
Sarah sucks in a deep breath like she’s spooling up for a lecture…for telling me I’m wrong and something better will come along. She runs her hand down my arm and shakes her head slowly. “No. It’s not Octavia.”
No? That’s it? None of her spiritual mumbo jumbo? Just as well. I don’t feel like being cheered up by any promise that things will get better.
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