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A Worse Idea 73

Sharise got there as soon as she could. Anne didn’t have to wait long, but still, the moments felt so long.

Time’s such an odd thing — the way a moment can feel like an eternity, and vice versa. Not much happened in those moments, but at the same time, Anne’s mind stretched them out.

The problem, of course, was Shade’s death. Anne tried like hell to not think about Shade, but all the same, it seemed like everything brought the murder back to her mind — the black-haired woman eating a burger in a booth, a fucking packet of ketchup.

Everything reminded Anne of Shade, because there was a part of her mind that wanted so desperately to be reminded of Shade.

Anne clutched her right hand with her left, desperately trying to stop herself from shaking. She just felt so cold.

Scared.

Confused.

When Sharise came into the Burger Buddies, she found Anne shaking.

“You alright?” Sharise asked.

Anne shook her head no.

“Sorry,” Sharise said. “Dumb question.”

She sat with Anne for a few minutes. The two of them didn’t say much to each other. But just the presence of another person calmed Anne down.

And so, after not too much time, Anne followed Sharise out of the fast food joint and into the car.

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