How was I supposed to go on like nothing happened, like I was okay? I wasn't. And I never would be. Maybe I should call my father and ask if I could move back in with him. At least there, I wouldn't have to face Trent or Jax every day. I could have some semblance of a normal life until I eventually died - alone and heartbroken. Until then, though, I could live a normal human life. I could see my baby brother grow up. I could have a safe, fun relationship with Simon.
"That's a terrible idea," Whitney said.
I sat up and scowled. "Stay out of my head."
"No." She stood. "You're barely talking to me, or anyone for that matter, and I'm worried, okay?"
Sighing, I rubbed at my temples. "I don't know what to do." My voice broke on another sob. "It's like there's this massive hole in my chest, and I can't make it better. No matter what I do, I can't fix anything."
"We could always kill Isach," she said simply. "Then you can change, and the Zoya will never know."