That evening, her entire life wasn't the same when she got home from work. Panic gripped her throat, squeezing hard. She has never done such a dreadful deed for once. The realization sobered up her Dante-induced haze quickly. She rummaged the house like she was looking for something in particular, only to lay ahold of her phone and scream so hard that her vocal cord almost cracked. In times like this, she needed someone to call. Someone to lean her head on and cry bitterly.
Usually, at this point, she would have either swallowed or called Jake. But, she hurt Jake. Where was the heart and voice she would use in explaining what happened to Jake?
As if Jake heard her thoughts, he called. The sound of her blasting phone scared her.
She kept her eyes glued to her phone screen, watching it
