I sat there in Dominic's passenger seat, chewing slowly on the burger he'd brought.
The Starbucks cup sat in the holder, but my throat was too tight to drink much.
I barely looked at Dominic, but I could feel him watching me. His hand was in my hair, his fingertips kept brushing over my scalp in slow circles.
When I finally finished eating, I slumped back against the chair, the paper bag crumbled in my lap.
"I'm so scared," I said finally, my voice sounded so quiet it almost didn't sound like me. "My hands have been shaking since. My chest feels like… like someone's squeezing it tighter and tighter. I can't breathe right."
Dominic glanced at him as his hand stilled in my hair. "It's okay baby."
"What if my mom doesn't make it?" My voice cracked. "I don't wanna think that, but I keep thinking it. And if she doesn't… I'm gone. I'll lose myself. And I'll lose Alia too."
