ELEVEN
“FINISH THIS. JUST GET IT FINISHED… Keep working. Focus on what’s right in front of you, Tess.” At a corner table in the suite’s living room, sitting with her sewing machine, she adjusted her fabric. “One second at a time. Keep breathing.”
Styx came out of the bedroom and took his time checking out the space. “Who are you talking to?”
“Me,” Tess said, selecting her thread. “Why? Who are you talking to?”
“A crazy person, apparently,” he said and glanced around again. “Where’s Boze?”
Her concentration was on the task at hand. “Room service came up in the elevator. We got you fish.”
“I hate fish.”
“And life is so unfair,” she said, rethreading the machine. “That’s what you get for insulting Prince.”
But Styx wasn’t listening anymore, he was frowning. “When did he leave?”
“When
