ELARA~
Michael Whitmore had reached out again, saying it wasn't necessary to have any talk with the detective anymore since we had already spoken.
I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Angela's death than what was being let out. But worst of all was why her parents hadn't come out to say anything yet. It was absurd, and it was beginning to look like someone was actively trying to bury all of this.
I wanted justice for Angela. And I needed to talk to Chris. I had so many questions, I needed answers to.
It was morning time. After freshening up, for some kind of reason, I wanted to take another cup of tea—somehow just to see what else she wrote.
Rest assured you'll walk out of this.
—I.
I missed looking at her. Missed seeing her, missed her voice. How was she doing? I wondered. I still had her card with me, though, but a few little gifts wasn't enough to make me forgive her.
I stared at the pack. God, I was a freaking liar.
