May woke the next morning, a wild aching pain in her neck. She blinked, trying to remember why she hadn’t gone down the hall to her bedroom, why she was still wearing her clothes from the retirement party, and why her whole face felt like someone had put a balloon under her skin and inflated it.
Everything Kurt had said came rushing back in one, long, awful moment, and the tears started anew. Her eyes felt like someone had rubbed sand in them, and every hole on her face leaked some sort of liquid.
Her phone chimed again—the same sound that had woken her a few moments ago.
Her father’s name dropped down from the top of the screen. Where are you? Why didn’t you come back for dinner service last night?
Where are you? Why didn’t you come back for dinner service last night?Message after mes
