Timothy and I waited for her train in silence. When the whistle blew, signaling an incoming train, I turned to her, silent words on my lips. Don’t go, come back with me… I almost said, I can show you happiness… just, please, don’t go… She looked at me as if she had heard my silent plea and only waited for the words to taken their physical form. She looked so hopeful, eyes searching my own pleadingly. I hesitated, self-doubt washing over me. Could I show her happiness, or would I fail miserably, only adding to her misery? Could I right the wrongs in her life? Just then, the train whooshed into the station with a wild screech, blowing her hair wildly about her face and tossing scraps of paper into the chilly damp air
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