I don't want to answer it. I don't want to do much of anything, but I force myself to stand. “What are you doing here?” I gruffly ask Glen. He stuffs his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. “Eva called and asked if I would come hang out until she could get back.” “I don't need a fucking babysitter,” I snap. He shrugs and walks past me. “I'm sorry.” Sorry he's here? Sorry Eva didn't think she could leave me alone for thirty minutes? Or sorry because he knows Kelly's dead? My stomach twists with the thought. I slam the door, the sound echoing around the room. “Did she tell you everything?” I ask as we take a seat on the couch. “Enough that I know the gist. I'm sorry, man.” This time, I know he's talking about Kelly. There was a softer inflection in his voice while he pinned his sad gaze on me. I don't say anything. We sit there in silence as my grief morphs into anger. Maybe it's because Eva's not here or because she made Glen come over, but the words spew from my mouth.
