When he turned around in the elevator he saw a trail of bloody footprints across the tile floor of the lobby. She sat him down in the bathtub in her ...uite and took the showerhead from its perch and washed him gently with warm water and a washcloth. He watched red water swirl down the drain. She rinsed the washcloth out and wiped his face, dabbing softly over the throbbing pain above his eye. She didn’t speak. She cried quietly as she worked on him. Tears leaked out of her eyes and dribbled. Bianchi had always hoped Evan would stay and help run the one in Oakwood right along beside him. But just like me he craved change. Many times we would talk about all the places we wanted to see, where we wanted to go. His love for all the little beautiful things matched mine. He loved his Father and they were always close. He chose to stay and not move to Colorado not only because of not wanting to uplift from school and his childhood friends, but because of him. His Mother also approved of. More

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