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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

“You’re getting old,” I mumbled to myself, after staring at my own reflection in a window. No decoration or Christmas song seemed to be able to lift my gloomy mood, which seemed to grow stronger the closer I got to my apartment. My empty apartment. The place that had always been my castle of solitude and a much-needed place to hide from the world. Now it was just... Empty.

Maybe I should continue going to therapy after all. Only this time as treatment for depression.

The stairs had never felt steeper than when I walked up the three floors to my apartment, but I didn’t want to take the elevator because it went too fast for my liking. At least on the days it was working. I wanted to prolong the time it took to get to my door. Or, if I was completely honest, I didn’t really want to go home at all. And I was just about to turn and head out again, when I heard sounds I thought I recognized.

Nah, that couldn’t be.

“...you idiot! That was all the sugar that was left. You better get your ass
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