Thirteen
Friends Without Benefits
I think I broke my brain. Or maybe I just pickled it … ah, the irony.
Rupert yells at me through the Lutris portal, undermining any progress the ibuprofen swallowed upon awakening might otherwise make. He’s going on about “two strikes, Lara, this is two strikes,” like I’m some stupid teenager who crashed the Range Rover into the fence. Again.
“Can you please lower your voice?” I hold the ice pack to the back of my neck.
“You are ridiculous, do you know that?”
My living room gets very quiet.
“I have trusted you to do the right thing in my absence. Instead, I wake to video and messages from Len Emmerich, detailing your exploits last evening. You do remember that a few short weeks ago, people were calling for your expulsion.”
“Yes, and those people ar
