Sandra
I pace the living room, back and forth, fingers tangling in my hair until my scalp stings. The sound of my heels against the marble floor echoes too loudly.
“I cannot believe this,” I mutter. “Molly has completely lost her mind.”
Mike does not look at me.
He is still sitting on the couch, legs crossed, expensive suit perfectly pressed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass like the world has not just cracked open beneath my feet. His jaw is tight, lips thin, eyes distant and calculating. He always looks like that when he is deciding how much damage he is willing to cause.
I stop in front of him. “Did you hear me? She walked out. Just like that. With that man.”
Still nothing.
The door opens and the air shifts instantly. I know before I turn that it is Paul. I feel it in my
