Debbie.
What?
Did he just say they should trash them?
“Rain. Why? Why should they trash the clothes?” I asked.
His hand flew to his hair, scratching irritably.
He turned to me, arching a brow. “Really, Debbs? You really asking me that? Like… can't you see why?”
I frowned. I didn't even understand what he meant or what he was saying right now.
“Rain. I don't understand what you mean. What do you mean by can't I see why? You don't like them?” I asked.
“Oh yes, Debbie, yes.” He nodded. “I don't like them.”
He turned to the clothes on the rows, taking out a flared long gown.
“What is this?” he asked. Then he picked another—a big green top, the one I liked the most. “What is this? And this? What are all these?”
“They are clothes, Rain. Clothes.”
I watched as he closed his eyes, exha
