Sitting on the low wall in our garden, I rang her again.
"Emily?" Hannah questioned.
"Hannah, please, listen," I started, "You have to help me."
"I'm not the one to help you."
"Wait! Please, Hannah. You don't understand, it's my fault he died! It's my fault."
"I'm sorry, Emily."
"Why does everyone say they're sorry after someone's died? You're not sorry, you did nothing!" I screamed against the reciever.
"I'm sorry, Emily." She repeated.
"I didn't think anything could hurt this much. The person that did this to him, I want to rip them apart. Can you understand me, Hannah? I'm going crazy! Please help me!"
"I'm sorry, for everything that has happened." She hung up again.
"Hannah? Hannah!" I called urgently.