[She didn't look at him when she felt him crouching next to her, leaning against the wall. He didn't know it, but it spoke about how much she trust him that in that minute she didn't reach over and smack him, or even open her eyes. If it had been someone else she would have braced for some sort of attack, especially right now. Her voice was little sounding, and sad.]
It was about my father. She told me that he didn't love me.
Spam.
It was about my father. She told me that he didn't love me.