Ana

"Oh, Cassie," I whisper. I knew she was anorexic. I knew it. I knew it. But hearing her say it, hearing her thin, reedy, starvation-wracked body confirm what I didn't want to believe, is like something out of a nightmare. Her twig-thin fingers clench, unclench, clench again. I hold out my arms and she collapses into them.

"Oh, Cassie, why?" I ask. She shudders, and I can feel every single bone in her back, her arms.

"I... I don't... He..." she sobs. "Ty... And Rick... I just... I just wanted to be good enough!"