25: Who Are You?
“I'm gonna ask something—of course, if you don't mind.” I dug my nails into my flesh, causing a crescent-like moon shape on my palm. My palm starts to get sticky from sweat.
She faced me. She forced a smile and nodded. It seemed like she got a cognizance of the possible question I might drop. “Sure. What is it?” she asked.
She turned her back on me and returned the ones she used on me.
“Ten years ago… what happened in that bus accident?”
My heart thumps loudly, and it feels like it's going to break my ribcage with its strength. I swallowed hardly, yet unnoticeably, probably because of the possible information I will get from her.