Who knows how many glasses of alcoholic drinks have entered and moistened her throat? Her eyes have been wandering, observing other visitors who have merged with the dance floor. Some are chatting with joyful faces or being flirted with, or maybe they do the flirting. Ester doesn't care. What she cares about now is being trapped here. Oh no, she didn't accidentally end up here.
This is one of the many ways she avoids the many things that occupy her mind. The suffering, disappointment, anger, and even hatred that has taken over her heart are beyond salvageable.
"One more," she said, handing over her empty glass.
"But, miss. This is already your fourth glass."
"One more." Ester doesn't care about Sofi's objections, who has been by her side since earlier. Several times, her annoying assis
