Robin Summer was screaming at the top of her lungs. If it weren't for lack of choice, what woman would want to descend to such depths, to live a life so devoid of self-respect?!
Every day, she looked at her haggard reflection in the mirror, her skin dry and sallow. She knew that the organs inside her body were deteriorating. Drug use was the equivalent of a slow suicide. She wasn't ignorant about that.
But she had no choice, absolutely no choice. Sometimes she even contemplated suicide. But at the moment of committing the act, fear would overtake her, causing her to back out.
So, she let herself go more and more, drinking, smoking, taking drugs, prostituting herself... It felt as if she had done all the dirtiest things in the world, allowing herself to spiral downwards...
George Summer remained silent, his face cold and devoid of warmth. Meanwhile, Tara Summer was covering her mouth, her eyes bloodshot as she bit her lip, listening to Robin's description of her year.
