You Left Me At The Altar, Now You Beg Me
ARIA
Corbin Hale. That name appears again for the umpteenth time within five days.
And I know this is not just a coincidence or any ordinary name. But whatever it is, I will find out. I always do.
I close the files and the PC and go to bed.
By morning, Luna is not herself. She’s slower getting up than usual, and when I finally coax her downstairs, she pushes her food around the bowl instead of eating it, chin propped on one hand, eyes half-closed.