“BE STRONG.” Immediately I feel stupid. Who am I to tell her to be strong? I’m not family. I don’t even classify as a friend.
I’m sitting next to her in a crowded room. The walls are in much need of a fresh coat of paint. There’s no furniture save the king-size bed that eats into the walking space. There are shelves built into the wall covered by a red bed sheet that sways in tune with the ceiling fan. It clashes with the purple bed cover. The apartment I rent from them is in far better shape and much more spacious.