Abby

A curse slips out of my mouth as I lurch across my living room. My fingers are

clumsy as I fumble with the door handle, but finally, I yank it open. The porch

light filters in, revealing Karl, his figure imposing even in the darkness of the

street outside.

“What are you doing here?” I’m more tired than angry, and a little too drunk for

my own good, leaving my voice harsher than I really intend.

Karl’s eyes scan over me, taking in my haphazard state, before his gaze floats

past me and into the equally haphazard state of my apartment. “Why aren’t you

answering your phone?” he asks. “I’ve been trying to call you. I’m worried.”

Enter title…

to hide his

“I

my tense tone conveys exactly what I want it to:

do I

Instead, he steps forward, brushing past me before

He stands in

takeout food, the two

towel before he finally turns back to face

everyone’s been trying to reach you. Don’t

eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Well, I haven’t been looking at

been… busy.”

chest and frowns, a look

what? Watching old

a pointed look at

that will somehow protect me.

what? It’s

defensiveness in my tone.

failure on Karl, who only ever tried his best to help

now, I’m angry with the world, and I don’t entirely

why.

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