Chapter 14
Ethan was alone in his room. Downstairs, Robert busied himself cooking, again. The old fool never stopped, even when no one ate anything. Ah well, I suppose we all do what we have to in order to escape. Robert had put on some music, some old jazz diva with a smoky voice. Someone boring and old-fashioned. What was the point of music if you couldn’t dance to it? Robert had called up to him, yelling something up the stairs about coming down for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Ethan ignored him.
He had emptied several bags of crystal meth, crushing each bag’s contents before spilling it out onto the cherry surface of his dresser, which he had made sure to clear completely and dust off before allowing himself to spread the precious Tina on its surface. With a credit card, he had made
