I was fucking this close to doing it, Paddy. This fucking close. I wanted her to fucking stop. I told her to fucking stop. I practically god damn begged her to stop. And she wouldn't. She just kept going and going.

[Parker practically walked into the wall, and she leaned against where the window frame would be, holding onto the cigarette. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could, and she sunk down into a crouch with her hand folded over her eyes, feeling the ring that she wore on her index finger pressing against her brow like a weight. The ring had been her mothers, and Parker had worn it ever since her father had given it to her when she turned sixteen. It felt uncomfortable now, like words that Denise had said had somehow worked into it.]