Thursday, October 12th, 8:37 AM
The elevator opened on her floor. Honey stepped out, shoulders squared, chin lifted despite the throbbing ache in her cheek. She'd done her best with makeup, having gone back into the bathroom before leaving the penthouse to see if she could make it less noticeable, but now foundation layered thick enough to feel like a mask. Still, the bruise showed through, the violence she had experienced something she couldn't erase.
Her brown wig sat perfectly in place; sunglasses instead of glasses perched on her nose. The oversized blazer hung from her shoulders, she was Joy Smith, returning to work, if a little bruised and battered, she would pretend nothing had changed when everything had.
Amanda had already had a disagreement with her about letting her up here w
