APRIL
The moment I push open the door that leads into the courtyard, something inside me twists.
It’s a bad feeling, the kind that sits heavy in your stomach and warns you to turn around. I shouldn’t be doing this. Joe is never going to give me the night off. He’ll only yell at me again, maybe worse this time.
I should just go back inside before he sees me.
But I don’t. My hand lingers on the door as it swings shut behind me. My nerves buzz with that uneasy feeling that tells me I’ve made a mistake. The air outside is colder than I expected, sharp against my skin, and every instinct I have is screaming for me to run back inside.
Joe already shouted at me once tonight, when I first got to work. He dragged me into his office without warning, slammed the door, and demanded to know how
