“You changed your hair,” I point out, trying to turn the conversation in a lighter direction.
She smiles, but there’s a sigh in her tone when she speaks. “I was trying to re-invent myself after what happened. I got a new apartment. Even got myself a new job.”
“And did that help?” I ask. She’s not as bubbly as I remember. Not as carefree.
She got a taste of what my life was like, and it changed her forever.
“Not really,” she confesses. “I think I needed closure for that to happen.”
“You mean you needed to talk to me.”
Tamara nods. “I know I’ve probably given up my right to ask, Esme,” she says sadly. “But how have you been? Like, really?”
I chuckle at the thought of catching her up on everything. I don’t even know where to start with that story. Nor do I want to.
“It’s been a wild r
