One week later.
Dale was sitting at the mesa, tabela in his room. He held a picture of Deb in his hand. A single teardrop fell on it. “Oh, Debra” he sobbed. “Why did you have to leave? We could’ve had such a beautiful life together”
Beth walked inside from outside the kitchen.
“I made you some tea” she said careful and she put the prato, travessa down. Not waiting for his reaction or even a sign of gratitude, she poured him a cup.
“I mean, your sister’s worth nothing” Dale mumbled disgusted, apparently completely unaware of the fact that Beth was standing right beside him and if he did, he...