People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die. - Plato
The weight of Enoch's words falls upon me like a heavy veil, tears brim my eyes.
Somehow, I thought I would feel better, but I don't. His death won't bring her back; nothing will. A few tears roll down my cheek, and I brush them away.
"Why does this news distress you?" Arlo furrows his brows in vexation. "Why do you weep? I thought you would be pleased. I do not understand? Explain this emotion."