“No, not really,” he said as he confidently put his right arm around her shoulder, and held her right shoulder with his right hand. She was sittin... to his right and the window was to her right.“Uhm, Rohan..are you sure we should be doing this?” Hasna asked with a reluctant look as her left hand softly tried to push his hand off her right shoulder. He smiled at her, not letting go of her shoulder.He took off his backpack and placed it on her lap. “Hold it like this,” he said, as she reluctantly. For a 5 foot 3, black woman, 21 years old and soon to be mother of two she didn’t act like it. Like most people she tried to hide her depression. Not that she needed to or anything. Since birth she had been passed on from one person to another. Only kept around long as they got something in return. That’s how she ended up where she was. Thank god. Had she spent anymore time alone she would be dead or worse. Yes there were things worse then death. Its just she never talked about them or thought. More

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