JASMINE
I was upstairs in my private office when a loud banging sounded on my door. I got up to open it, and Lucy's scent drifted into my nostrils. I swung the door open to her in a raggedy t-shirt and leggings, her normally glossy hair tangled and unbrushed, and her face red and blotchy as if she'd been crying for hours.
"Please, Jasmine," she choked out. "Please, help me."
"What happened?" I asked, looking her up and down. She walked past me and took a seat on the comfortable chair I'd set up next to my bookshelf.
After sniffing a few times, she finally blurted out, "Luke's kicking me out of the packhouse."
"What?" I stared at her wide-eyed, not knowing what to say.
"Jasmine, I love him. He's the only reason I get up in the morning. Without him, I'm nothing. I don't know what to do
