Eve

“What are you doing here?” Mia asked, her voice low but edged with something sharp as she stepped closer, coat slipping off her shoulders.

I shifted back instinctively, my spine bumping the edge of the counter. The flask felt suddenly heavier in my hands, like evidence I couldn’t hide. “I… I—”

“I mean, you never visit,” she went on, eyes narrowing. “Never, Eve. Ever.” The words rose, cracking the quiet of the kitchen. “Hey, stop screaming,” I murmured, more plea than command.

“Oh, now I’m screaming?” She laughed, but it was brittle, hurt. “No calls, no messages, no nothing, Eve. The second you married that fake-ass devil of an...