LEXIE
The days started to feel almost normal. Every morning I woke up early, took a quick bath, put on my simple clothes, and walked downstairs. Chaos would usually be at the bar with his coffee. He always gave me a small nod and a quiet “Morning.”
He drove me to the drug store most mornings. The ride was usually quiet, but comfortable. I would stare out the window at the small town waking up and try not to think too much.
Mr. Harlan was the same every day, grumpy but fair. “You’re on time again,” he would grunt when I walked in. “Good because shelves won’t stock themselves.”
“Yes, sir,” I would reply with a smile. “I’m here to serve the great cough syrup empire.”
He would shake his head, but I caught him smiling once or twice when he thought I wasn’t looking.
The mornings passed in
