Monica

I stand by my window, staring out at the city as the first light of morning begins to spread across the buildings.

My cigarette burns between my fingers, the smoke curling lazily into the still air of my apartment. 

I take a long drag, inhaling deeply, feeling the warmth of the smoke filling my lungs. I exhale slowly, watching it spread against the glass.

Anger surges through me, filling my chest like a dark cloud. Anger at Knox, at everything he represents in my life now. 

Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve planned, it all feels like it’s slipping through my fingers, no matter how hard I try to...