**** Alyssa ****
At breakfast the next morning, I decide to skip the busy dining room and hide at the small kitchen table in the kitchen area. Unfortunately for me, Mistress Merideth makes the same choice. She looks miserable this morning. Her normally perfect face is blotchy, her eyes are puffy and red, and she’s sporting a serious case of bad head. She’s moving her food around her plate without really eating, sighing heavily and obviously while doing it. She’s clearly hoping I’ll ask her what’s wrong. I, however, am not a morning person, and I have not had any caffeine yet. I barely slept last night, and the last thing I want to do is listen to my husband’s girlfriend complain about whatever he did wrong. Maybe the necklace he bought yesterday wasn’t expensive enough or something. Wh
