Chapter 40

• Roxanne’s chest ached with the depth of her sigh, and on the exhale, it felt like whatever strength she had left dissipated. She knew she was being a bitch. She knew that she had no right to be here-amongst people who knew Hannigan, who spent time with her, and whose lives would now look entirely different because of her absence. And here Roxanne was, moping over some guy and with a sense of listlessness.
• But when she looked around at those milling around the house, she was immediately transported to her house, filled with tulips and a great feeling of loss and sadness permeating the walls. She sat in the laundry for almost the entire wake, refusing to talk to anyone or put up with anyone’s condolences, their pity for a young girl now orphaned. She tried desperately not to look up whenever anyone ducked their head through the door, knuckles rapping on the wooden frame, but whenever she inevitably did, expecting it to be her mother, she crumpled.
• The money that sat in her bank account from her mother’s estate was no comfort-the last remaining piece of her mother being six figures in her bank account, something she swore she would never touch, never watch those numbers dwindle.