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THAT’S MY GIRL

Lizzie

AUGUST 7, 2002

“I KNOW YOU’RE HURTING, SWEETHEART, ” S INEAD SAID, AS SHE DROVE ME HOME FROM the party. “If there were anything I could do to take this weight from your shoulders, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

I didn’t have anything left inside of me to answer.

Instead, I slumped against the window and stared lifelessly.

At what, I had no idea.

My head was spinning, and the meds were kicking in, making my body grow warm and my head light.

“I want you to know that you are always welcome in our home,” she continued, reaching across the console to take my hand in hers. “I love you like a daughter, and I always will.” She squeezed my hand. “You have a place in my heart and that will never change.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks.

Sniffling, I squeezed her hand back.

“That’s my girl.”