Elle.
I wake up a few hours later feeling strangely well-rested and relaxed. The effect lasts for only a second before the memories from last night crash over me in a desperate wave.
Mother fucker.
Sighing, I glance around my new bedroom. The walls, the windows then back to the walls again. Last night hadn't been a dream, my new space confirmed that.
My uncle was dead, and now I’m stuck living with the man who killed him, the same man who threatened to kill me and who I’ve spent weeks secretly fantasising about.
Could my life get any more ironic?
The image of my uncle's lifeless body comes rushing back, and I feel a familiar churning sensation in my stomach, forcing me to jerk up and dash for the bathroom.
I crouch over the toilet seat spewing up the alcohol mingled with stomach bi
