Jane shook her head. She was beginning to get a serious migraine. The lack of sleep, no food and worry for her son were beginning to take their toll on her body. It didn’t help to also have a strange woman walk into the house, and not only claiming to be her ex-boyfriend’s mother but also that Enock isn’t actually dead. “No. Enock is dead,” she said firmly, almost to herself.
She had to hold on to at least one semblance of truth in the tornado of all the lies she had apparently believed while she lived with the man she thought she had loved.
The living room was swallowed in a heavy silence. The ticking sound of the wall clock cut through the silence like a loud strike of a gong.
Christopher stared at the second glass of whisky he was yet to touch. The temptation was great to just gulp
