S I A
"We have a problem," I ranted for the fifth time pacing around in the tent of my partner-in-crime, more like partner in solving crime.
"You have a problem," he corrected, "I just have an i***t who keeps falling into problems."
I stopped walking to give him the you're-not-serious look. He shrugged it away.
"I don't get it, why are you always angry?" I ask.
"I'm not... I'm not angry, sunshine. I honestly don't even know what I am anymore," he said, finally getting up and facing me.
"Me too," I reply in a tired voice, "I don't even know what to do anymore. Is anything worth it? I was dead– I mean, I should be by now, right?"
"Yeah.... maybe."
"I was thinking we could tell someone... maybe Daisy? Caleb? Eva? Seth? But I don't know. Would they believe you? Is there any point to a
