Unfortunate events

CAMILLA

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I took the first cab I could find and made my way back home. Well, not exactly home since I lived with Freddie, but you know what I mean. All through my journey, I found myself looking back more times than I ought to. As though mister Ivan's house would appear from the blues and I would be called in once more. Yes, he was a complete and absolute jerk, but something was deeply wrong with him.

His case was not that of induced depression or a lost soul that needed saving. He needed all the help he could get, all the help that he had refused in the past. He must have paid a fortune to get all those doctors to give him their time of day, and again, he was very famous. But, if they were not able to help, who did I think I was?

The cab halted in front of Freddie's apartment and I slipped out of the car and walked sloppily in my block heels until I got to the front of the door. I leaned against the wooden door as my hands skimmed through my bag, in search of the house keys. I w