ChrisI stood in front of the window in my office; it was dark enough outside by now to see my reflection staring back at me in the glass. I still hadn’t rested all day, and I had no plans to sleep anytime soon.With a sigh, I adjusted a stray lock of hair that kept falling down into my forehead. Wh

Ava“Chris, are you… drunk?”Chris took a stumbling step forward, the bottle of brandy sloshing dark, sticky liquid all over his shoes. He narrowed his eyes at me and took another swig. “What does it look like?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his words slurred.I stood there for a moment, gap

AvaThe next morning, Chris and I headed straight to the clinic, the small plastic baggie containing the mysterious white powder clutched tightly in Chris’s hand. We didn’t waste a single moment; as soon as the clinic opened, we were headed out, barely even having slept all night.“What do you think

Chris studied me for a moment, his jaw working silently, before letting out a resigned sigh and nodding. “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice for now.” He shot me a sidelong glance, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “But I’ll be coming over later to raid your wine cellar

“Are those your parents?” she asked, pointing up at the man and woman in the painting.I nodded wistfully as I followed her gaze. The portrait of my late parents had always been my favorite—my father looked particularly healthy with his hair coiffed and his mustache curled up at the ends, and my mot