Bad, Bad News

ELAINE

If someone had told me a year ago that this would be my life now, I would’ve laughed my head off. Back then, I wasn’t by any stretch of the word comfortable, but I was safe, and most importantly, I had my little boy.

Now, I had neither safety nor Adrian, and it felt like my entire life had no meaning or purpose.

The door to my room swung open, making me stand up from the bed. Mrs. Jacques, who’d been in the room with me, stood up, too.

Giovanni, Billy, and Butch entered, and I waited with bated breath as they walked in, dreading what they were about to tell me.

It’d been a particularly torturous few hours. I’d paced every inch of this room and cried what felt like buckets as I tried Lia’s phone over and over. But there was nothing. The call just kept going to voicemail.

A gnawing sense of dread had settled deep within me, an ache that resonated throughout my entire being. It was a feeling I knew all too well—my body’s instinctive response to Adrian’s distress. I couldn’t ration