He crunched his last piece of bacon. It crumbled and bits rained down onto his plate.
"She was a small woman. Fiery red hair. Very pale."
I slumped onto the counter. I felt like I'd been slugged in the gut. That was her. The one I dreamed about. That was Betty Finch. I was barely cognizant of what he said after.
"But she was a real sweet woman. She didn't deserve all that happened to her. Losing her husband and then losing her own life to that stupid hippie girl. No reason for it at all, if you ask me."