Marcie

I wipe my mouth and sit back from the grimy toilet in Everett’s bathroom. Heather releases my hair. Everett dumps what looks like coffee out of a mug, rinses it, then offers me some water. Reluctantly, I accept.

Ben and Ryan are actually the same person. Might actually be the same person. This is the proof I was looking for, the proof that made me call Theresa and go through that box. Now that I have it….

My stomach clenches again, a tiny threat.

“How are you feeling?” Heather asks. “Did you just drink too much?”

This time, my laughter is dry and short. “‘Just’ is doing a lot...