Knox

The hallway is dark and quiet as I finally make myself turn away from her door.

I keep my eyes forward. If I look back now, if I actually look at that closed slab of wood, I’ll knock again. I will say something unforgivable.

I fear that I might shove that door open and hold her tight to my chest.

The study door closes behind me.

I don’t flick on the ceiling light. Just the desk lamp.

I grab the bottle of whiskey from the table. Which is cold in my palm.

I pour a sizable portion into the glass and take a gulp.

The burn rears down my...