[ Hearing that... Chloe wishes, truly, that she could believe it. But it's like Max saying she'll write. It's like her dad saying he'll be right back.
How can she trust anything anymore, even if people mean well?
She takes the nearest chair and, instead of slamming it into the door, sits at it, eyes closed and head in her hands. Part of her appreciates this. The rest is too defeatist to. ]
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How can she trust anything anymore, even if people mean well?
She takes the nearest chair and, instead of slamming it into the door, sits at it, eyes closed and head in her hands. Part of her appreciates this. The rest is too defeatist to. ]