PREVIEW

... up had long since gone cold.

Its surface reflecting the dim kitchen light like a dark mirror.

I stared into its depths, as if the answers I sought might somehow surface from the bitter liquid.

The relentless ticking of the wall clock marked the passage of time—2:15 AM, Tuesday morning.

He had promised to be back Monday.

My fingers tightened around the ceramic mug, the chill seeping into my palms.

Three days.

Three days of jumping at every n ...

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