As Anna Jadwin gets up to leave, Wayne Bailey could almost grasp at her, bitterly holding her against his chest, never to let go again.
He raises his hand, the burn on his index finger reminding him of her photos—burned to ashes.
Recalling how she had again and again taken Raphael Bailey's side and abandoned him.
"You've got my number, right?" Anna Jadwin pulls out her phone and dials his number.
Wayne Bailey's phone is lying on the bedside table but with no hint of vibration or sound.
She gently kneels down on the carpet in front of him, taking his hand and writing her number on his arm.
"I'll wait for your call."
Wayne Bailey's lips pale, trembling: "What makes you think that I will call you? I won't call you!!!"
