Divorced But Desired by the Mafia King
But Addy isn't here.
The door squeaks open to a dark house smelling of rotting food and dust. "Evelyn," I call out, as I kick an empty can, scaring a rat that has taken up residence in our house. The garbage, which had been stacked in the kitchen in tall white bags, has been punctured and torn, the contents dragged through the house by the vermin, making everything stink with weeks worth of waste.
Addy always made sure the garbage was on the curb every Tuesday night. I've been too busy to do it and Evelyn...Where is she?