The Quiet One Snaps at Christmas Eve
Aunt Zoe, however, let out a massive sigh of relief, as if she were being sent to paradise rather than prison.
…
Another Christmas had arrived.
Without those toxic relatives, the Christmas Eve dinner this year was wonderfully quiet.
I sat alone in the vast villa with a small pot of cheese fondue bubbling in front of me. Next to me sat the photo of my parents, and curled at my feet was a fast-asleep ginger kitten I had newly adopted.
My phone kept buzzing. The company group chat was filled with well-wishes from Alfie and my colleagues.
Even Uncle Caleb, the man who used to sneer at my very existence, sent a text. "Hannah, Merry Christmas. I was wrong back then. Take care of yourself."
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