LACIE POV:
I walk into the kitchen and raid the fridge grabbing the leftover lasagna I made the other day. I pop it in the microwave and wait as it warms snatching a cold beer in the process.
“It surprises me you drink after all of the things you’ve been through,” Freyja says in a quiet tone. I sigh.
“It makes no sense to me either, guess what they say is true. You either never drink in spite of the abuser or you drink despite the abuser.” I shrug my shoulders and take a sip.
“I chose the latter, plus now I can drink more without getting wasted. Win-win in my book.” I set my beer down as the microwave dings, and grab the hot glass container without thinking.
“OUCH!” I yell as I fling it onto the counter and stick my fingers in my mouth, trying to soothe the burn as I run to the s
