As Bethany talk, I learn more about her than I ever have before. It makes me feel like a truly awful friend. Bethany has stood by me through thick and thin, yet I still knew so little about her. I’m determined to rectify this oversight, and dive into her life here and now as much as I can.
Yet, while we are talking, we are soon interrupted by a knock on the door. We both fall silent for a moment, listening. When the knocking persists, I call out, “Who is there?”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a male voice replies.
“That’s Cameron,” Bethany whispers in a rush, her eyes alight with excitement.
“I’m looking for Bethany? Is she in there with you?” he calls.
I look at Bethany to see what she wants to do. When she gives me a hopeful look, I know what I must do.
“Come in, please,” I call.
The door op
