No one ever asked her what she wanted.
Whether it was Eric Candi or Philip Shaw, none of the men she had loved had asked her where she wanted to go, whose side she wanted to stay on, or what she wanted.
Never.
Her thoughts and will had been ignored from the very start.
And it seemed she gradually started to not care either.
No matter whose side she stayed on, it seemed not to matter.
She accepted this life of drifting along in pain.
*
Norris Moore went to the pharmacy to buy disinfectant wipes and anti-swelling spray and returned.
Trenton Smith's body was covered in flesh wounds, looking dreadful but not serious.
She found a bench in the corridor for people to rest on and bent down to wipe his cracked lips with the disinfectant wipes.
"Does it hurt?" she asked with a bit of heartache.
Trenton Smith nodded, going with the flow: "Yeah, it hurts."
