[♥HYPOTHESIS: When I think I've hit rock bottom, someone will hand me a shovel. That someone is probably Tom Benton.]
Olive drifted off after the first time, and dreamed of many strange, nonsensical things. Sushi rolls shaped like spiders. The first snowfall in Toronto, during her last year with her mother. Adam's dimples. Tom Benton's sneer as he spat the words "little sob story." Adam, again, this time serious, saying her name in his unique way.
Then she felt the mattress dip, and the sound of something being placed on the nightstand. She slowly blinked awake, disoriented in the dim light of the room. Adam was sitting on the side of the bed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Hi." She smiled. "Hey."
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Chapter 17
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