PIPER
Timofey scowls, his hands curling around my neck and tangling in my hair. "Those leeches have sucked the life out of you, Piper. You give everything you have to everyone—your family, your friends, the kids you work with. But there has to be something left for you at the end of the day."
The words are simple, but they bring a fresh wave of tears.
"Stop crying," he orders, a hopeless kind of laugh laced in his words.
"Stop saying that," I counter. "You're making it worse."
My dad typically took me crying as a sign of success. Once I was in tears, he had what he wanted. The fact Timofey wants me to stop only makes me like him more.
Maybe he's right. Maybe I should figure out how to pull back on all the assistance I offer the people in my life.
Timofey throws up his hands. "You are a fucking mystery, woman. What are you thinking?"
