December 10, 2002:
Suburban street of one-story tract homes. Thrum of rain on concrete. Outside the swish of passing cars.
Thin girl with a tear-stained face paces the kitchen, crying.
Throws her hands in the air from futility. "I can't believe she's doing this to me," she repeats, again and again, 'til sobs stifle her words, and the sound of rain fills all the world.
Slow fade to black.
When I heard she'd dropped her friend so heartlessly I responded, at first, with confusion. How could she do something so horrible to someone who loved her?
It was several days before I began to feel fear.