"Because we don't have a future."
"What is the future? What do you even see as our future?" Lieselotte pulled Katelynn into her arms. The thin hospital gown clung to her skin, and when Katelynn's body pressed against hers, she didn't pull away. She just kept sobbing, quiet and broken.
"Look at me, Katelynn. Tell me—what's the future you want?" Lieselotte's voice wavered with the cold that seemed to reach her bones, sharper than the night air that bit into her skin. The future—how had it become this heavy, like a stone dropped from the sky, crashing into her without warning? She wondered: Is the future any different from the present? Do they even connect, or is the future just a lie people tell themselves to get through today?
