stopped breathing.
It had belonged to my father.
And I hadn’t seen it since the year he died.
—
Jeffrey and I became best friends when we were seventeen.
Not boyfriend and girlfriend.
Just Jeffrey and Ruth.
At least, that was what we always told people.
He dated other girls.
I went out with other boys.
I even attended prom with someone else, although Jeffrey ended up driving me there after my date’s car broke down.
Everyone around us thought we were ridiculous.
Our families were convinced that sooner or later,
