PUCK ME, GENTLY
The replacement.
My value was never me; my value was always my function. And if I had none to offer, I'm discarded for the next shiny thing.
Back in the room, my fingers tremble as I dig through the box I never got around to arranging, spilling clothes all over the floor.
Vision blurred, I grab the first thing that feels warm, a thick sweater, and pull it over my shirt. My hands keep moving, restless. Phone, cash, longer pants that hang off my waist like they belong to someone else.
Hot Chapters