Chapter Twelve

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- Calliope -

"Hello?" I ask.
"It's Mark."
"Hey."
"She cut herself. Five times."
"WHAT?!"
"There are five slashes down her forearm, each slice deeper than the other."
"Is this my fault?"
"Yes. Well, no. What you said pushed her over the edge. She just couldn't take it anymore. Her brothers death, your car crash, the plane crash, her leg, her wanting to try again, you dumping her... It was too much. So no, it wasn't all your fault."
"Mark..." I say, tearing up. "Will she be okay?"
He chuckles. "She will be fine. It was a one time thing. She's already eating again. She has a sense of humor again. She just needs a couple of months. Okay? Stay in New York. I'll call you when she's okay."
"Mark..." I whisper. "I didn't mean to..."
"Well you did, Calliope. You did. You pushed her over the edge."
"Will she ever be back?"
"Like I said, Torres. Give her a couple of months."
"Mark..."
"Yeah?"
"I love her."
"I know, Torres. I know."
Click

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