Returning from Hell—away from my baby Valerys's sweet (and slightly sulfurous, it's genetic, what can you do?) scent—back to this suffocating, flower-scented, bubblegum-pink room...
I swear, Michael, my soul is shrinking. My claustrophobia is peaking! I expected to find Lola glued to her phone, probably crying at Adam's doorstep, but surprisingly, our girl was actually talking to her friends about school exams—limits, derivatives, integrals, the whole bit.
"I've basically finished the senior year topics this summer," Lola told them over the phone. Her voice sounded—for the first time—actually firm, actually proud. "All that's left is to solve practice tests like a maniac. I know my goal."
