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All Too Real
I breathed deep, opened the door and stuck my head in to show off my poor French. “Un moment, Cristine, s’il vous plait.”
I think that took her by surprise, because she stopped whatever she was doing. We walked in, and my first look was at the laptop, which I had completely forgotten about when Amy had gotten hurt. It was still on the desk, seemingly untouched. I hurried to grab it and take it out of the room, leaving it on the hallway floor by the wall.
“Really, Fran?”
“Hey, it’s important to me. Okay, where is she?”
“Give me your hand.”
I didn’t stop to think, I just held the bowl with one hand and stretched out my spare to the side. A firm cold grip wrapped around it and I saw Joseph’s tall silhouette by my side. He pointed at the middle of the room and I let out a muffled interjection: I could see a greyish shape in a disheveled heap, sitting or kneeling by the dis
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