Fantine

Riley’s fingers were still warm against my waist as the music kept thumping through the floorboards, and his blue eyes were looking down at me with so much trust that the glass vial in my pocket felt like a block of solid ice melting against my thigh. I could see over his shoulder toward the exit door where the shadow of Selene’s coat was perfectly still, and I knew she was counting the seconds for me to walk over to the bar and finish the job that our father had commanded.

"You're not even listening to me, Fantine, you're just staring at the back wall like you want to...