INKA
Following my phone call with Riley, the party had blurred into a spinning haze of lights, and I'd lost track of how many drinks I'd had. The bar had become my temporary home until another group of owls drew me back to the dance floor.
I was completely drunk now, and my terrible dancing didn't matter; everyone was too busy singing along to notice.
I spun a little too quickly, nearly colliding with one of the women, when I noticed Maggie weaving through the crowd toward me. Even through the alcohol fog, I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying.
“Inka, honey," she said, reaching out for my arm. “Are you still doing alright?"
I nodded, grinning sloppily as concern cut through the chatter. “I am great. Are you OK? You look like you've been crying
