Mag-log inEverywhere was suddenly quiet, and we all had puzzled looks on our faces.My father was a smart devil, but he never quite fooled me, no matter how hard he tried.The officer dropped the phone slowly. He reached into a tray, and brought out a form, sliding it across the desk with a pen.“Fill this out, sir.”I took it. “How much?”He mentioned the amount. I dug into my coat, pulling out my wallet. Soon, the full amount was resting on the desk.He glanced at it, then at me, and quickly gathered the money.“I’ll have this processed right away.”He stood up, handing over the cash to another officer behind the counter. A few quiet exchanges followed. Then the sound of paper stamping and scribbling of signatures.Minutes later, he returned.“Kate Langston,” he said. “You are free to go.”“Her belongings.” I reminded. An evidence pouch was brought out—her phone, bracelets, and her small handbag. I checked everything in one sweep before handing it back to her.“Bear in mind,” the officer ad
*** • Everett • ***Family is one thing I don’t joke about. I could joke about money—you know, how much of it I could burn on a whim and never notice, or run on two hours of sleep, ignoring a pounding migraine, just to sign contracts worth millions. But you’re in for trouble when you hurt any member of my family, except unless for my father. I’d happily erase him from my life, the thought of sharing a surname with him makes me sick. I studied the face of my mother. She’s seated on a narrow metal bench, in the small, airless holding room, faking a smile as though she’s gracing a luncheon in a private suit not a police station. The light above her casted a pale glow over her features. She looked better than the gaunt state I had found her the last time. Still, her eyes are sullen, even the staged smile cannot hide them. She placed a palm on one side of my face. “You’re always in time, my boy. It’s safe to say you are my guardian angel.” I didn’t fall for those words. I’ve survive
***• Andrea •***My heels, bag, and manila envelope sat in a messy pile on the other side of the car. My bare foot pressed against the pedal. This should be enjoyable, but all I felt was dull, stubborn pain. My skin had always been too soft for this kind of torture, and right now, I was regretting picking these heels over the dozen other options I had this morning.I hated blisters.“He thinks I’m thrilled to work with him? Please. I'd rather take on those insane couples. ‘I don’t do blondes,’ Well, hello, Mr. Langston. Guess who’s blond? Total rubbish!” I muttered, scoffing at my reflection in the side mirror.“God… I don’t even have the energy for a celebration right now. I just want a long shower and a sleep where my alarm can't find me.”I knew I sounded insane, muttering to myself like some patient in a psycho ward, but exhaustion had a funny way of turning the normal into the absurd.My phone vibrated faintly, buzzing against the seat. Tahlia, obviously - I ignored it, sitting
***• Everett •***I choose not to believe that I just had that feeling again, after six whole years -the warm little pull in my chest making it hard for me to swallow, and the ridiculous urge to keep myself from staring like an idiot. Before Andrea even stepped foot into the building, I had already wasted a good amount of time scrolling through hundreds of photos on her Instagram page. It hadn’t been intentional. You know that annoying thing Instagram algorithm does? You add a contact, and suddenly it decides you’re soulmates. I was simply killing time, minding my business, and then she popped up - theandreathompson_Her page didn’t match the version of her I had met. It was alive, unfiltered, funny even. Every beautiful post came with atleast one unserious meme, and her dresses were dangerously sexy for the polished corporate girl she pretended to be.I had checked my wristwatch for the tenth time, before settling for my digital camera I hadn't used in months. At least that way,
The number of times I blinked after that statement could probably qualify as a medical emergency. I had always believed Mom’s marriage to Anthony was perfect. The way she talked about him made it sound effortless —like he could read her moods even before she spoke, like loving him didn’t require any work at all. It simply happened as naturally as breathing. Had all of that been a façade? I parted my lips to speak, but a dull ache formed at my temples. On second thought, I didn’t have the emotional stamina for whatever Liz was about to dump on me next. “Just tell Mom I’ll visit Harlem this weekend,” I said instead. “I think... no, I’ll definitely be free. But right now, I need to leave.” Liz chuckled, finally leaving my window frame. “Oh, you’d tell her yourself? How responsible of you. Let’s pretend we never ran into each other, and I never told you any of that.” “Liz!” I called. “What? she said, already stepping away. “Do I look like someone with nowhere to be? My man’s wai
He let out a short, ridiculous laugh.Amber’s breathing grew louder as she stepped closer. “Say that again. I dare you.”“Or you’ll do what?” he shot back. “Pfft. I’m literally nauseous just staring at your face.”“You two,” he said, flashing a crooked grin. “Are ugly. Uglier than a frog in a crown. And I swear, no amount of botox in the world would fix that.”Amber’s jaw dropped. Her face flushed the same shade as Kim’s, fury swelling in her chest.“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”Kim jabbed her index finger straight to the middle of his forehead, pushing it back. “Ohhh no. You just opened the gates of hell, Felix!.”He nearly stumbled but covered it with a laugh.“What exactly do you want? You’re doing way too much for a pair of bargain-bin Barbies,” he scoffed.Amber crouched and grabbed his ear, giving it a sharp yank.He squealed. “Ow! Cut it out! Ugly trolls!”“You think you can insult me and my sister and get away with it? Not today, you little gremlin!”Felix, small but







