Simp No More
Pushing open the rusted security door, I was hit by a wave of stale air, heavy with the scent of dust and time.
I waved a hand in front of my face and got to work.
Halfway through, a message came through from an unfamiliar number. It was a video.
In it, Charles had his arms wrapped around a curvy woman, whispering things into her ear with a smile I knew far too well.
For a moment, I froze. That face still had the power to throw me off balance.
The video was loud with music, but the conversation managed to cut through.
"Charles, you think Mindy's really mad this time? Think she's done for good?"
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