"You're a fucking mess, Isaac Reid," Delilah screamed as she flung another mug at me. It missed, shattering against the wall, spraying shards against the checkerboard tiles. Throwing my arms up to shield my face as another followed in quick succession, the pain from the nicks that had caught me barely registered.

"You bastard," came her next slur. Shaky hands clutched around another cup, the supply on the draining board behind her running thin, but she didn't throw it. Not yet. Her arm kept twitching, lifting, threatening, but it eventually fell back to her side. "You fucking bastard."

Tears ran freely, burning a path down her blotchy cheeks. Her breathing...