PAIGE
Payton swiped at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, the gesture clumsy and childlike. She took a shaky breath, her eyes wide and a little unfocused, still swimming in the remnants of drugs and pain.
"I had a dream," she started, her voice still that fragile, broken thread.
I just looked at her. "Ok...ay," I said slowly, drawing the word out. I settled back in the chair, preparing to listen. This was it. This was the reason I was here.
She began to talk, and it was a strange, heartbreaking sound. It was half a laugh, a choked, bitter thing, and half a sob that caught in her throat. She was laughing and crying at the same time, seeing the horrible, stupid irony of it all. I just listened. There was nothing else to do.
