CHAPTER 20CHARLIE
December 11, 2090
I sat on the couch, leg propped up on a pillow, arm in a sling, white bandages wrapped around both of my hands. The broken glass, remnants of my dad’s car projects, had slashed deep gashes into both of my palms. It felt like he was continuing to hurt me even after his death.
Kat perched on the edge of a chair pulled up close to the couch, gently holding one of my bandaged hands in hers. I had been worried she would be angry with me for leaving her at the festival, but she had told me she understood why I had to leave, she was proud of me for telling the truth, and I had made the right decision to come home for help. She believed, now that I had nothing to hide, I wouldn’t leave again and I let her believe it. We’d been sitting there for half an hour a
