We would drive out of the hospital or whatever this is, in silence. He would drop me off at Tolani’s place – she was the only person I could use to escape from the house. He would then go on to Yolanda and tell her how long his day was and how he was stuck in traffic and she would comfort him while I bled my son’s life out. I would recover in a few months, of course. I would bounce back at school, finish with my 4.0 and travel to an obscure country to hide away from Shola, posting Yolanda’s pictures on snapchat and the gram.