Abby wrinkles her nose, shrugs, an equal amount of non-answer. Her smile starts to fade.
Thing is, she decided to go do the dumb thing to keep herself from sitting around and doing something equally as dumb: turning Ellie's disappearance over again in her mind, flipping it in her palm like a rock from a tide pool, looking for something that makes sense. She's overthinking it all, maybe, but she can't seem to drag herself out of it. It's always there.
She rubs the back of her neck with her hand, cups it.
"Wanna talk about it?"
A problem shared is a problem — that belongs to somebody else and not to her, and she'd much rather hear about that.
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Thing is, she decided to go do the dumb thing to keep herself from sitting around and doing something equally as dumb: turning Ellie's disappearance over again in her mind, flipping it in her palm like a rock from a tide pool, looking for something that makes sense. She's overthinking it all, maybe, but she can't seem to drag herself out of it. It's always there.
She rubs the back of her neck with her hand, cups it.
"Wanna talk about it?"
A problem shared is a problem — that belongs to somebody else and not to her, and she'd much rather hear about that.