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I went about my morning ritual even though I didn’t have a job to go to. After I brushed my teeth and got dressed, I braved my living room and my belly filled with dread.

My aloe plant sat in the middle of my couch, wearing marshmallows on the ends of each leaf.

“Well, at least I didn’t leave my apartment.” I said to the room at large as I picked off each fluffy square.

At least I hoped I hadn’t.

I hadn’t done a grocery run after my last sleep snafu, but the mere thought of doing that right now put me in a deeper funk.

I dumped the marshmallows in the garbage and took a water from the fridge since that was safe. I put stacked the cups from my counter in front of the door, made sure the chain was engaged—though that hadn’t stopped me before—and returned to my bedroom.

I kicked off my jeans and crawled back under the covers.

Fuck everything and everyone.

The buzz of texts on my phone dented my sleep, but I was too depressed to answer my sister or Gage. I binge-watched Revenge and my dreams were filled with water and murder. Probably not the smartest move on my part. I didn’t need my subconscious to do any further damage to the outside world.

The cups I’d stacked in front of my door were still there two days later, so at least whatever havoc I wrecked was limited to my apa

rtment. So far, Emily and Victoria’s vindictive antics on the show were staying off the playing field of my home. However, my obsession with peanut butter was evidently at an all-time high.

When I couldn’t stand my own company any longer, I finally crept downstairs to Brewed Awakening. It had been a few days since I’d kicked Gage out of my place. My version of coffee couldn’t compete with the espresso machine of glory in Macy’s cafe.

“Well, hello, stranger.”

I turned to find Macy up on a ladder, hanging a pastel swag of bats and pumpkins. I quickly crossed to her when one of the ladder’s feet thumped with her monkey stretch. “Jeez. Can’t ask for help or something?”

She grinned down at me and looped the little ring around a tiny hidden hook in the corner of one of her built-in shelves. “Why?”

I rolled my eyes. Why indeed. “Well, I’m bored so I can help if you want.”

She winged up one of her crazy arched brows. Everything about her features were sharp. Kinda matched her personality. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Can you hand me those pink pumpkins?”

“Yeah. Drama follows me around.” I blew out a breath and handed her the brightly glossed gourds. “Your idea of spring is cool.”

“Thanks. I’d have the place decked out for Halloween all year round if I didn’t have to deal with Whitaker and her cronies.”

“Who are they?”

“Town council. They like the classic town decor.” She made slow, deliberate quotation marks with her fingers.

“Oh. Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. I bet they have a set day to change over the lights in the gazebo too.”

“You know that they do.”

“So, pink pumpkins.” I laughed.

“Damn right.” She tucked a pink pumpkin behind the yellow gourd already on the shelf. Then flipped out two of the Stephen King books on the shelf. Spring meets “It” and “The Stand”.

“I love it and the two finger salute.”

“This is why we get along, mocha.” She stepped down. “I resisted the urge to send Mrs. Irene Whitaker a very lifelike bat for Christmas.”

“I don’t even know this woman and I probably would have paid to see it.”

“She’s friends with your boss.”

My smile fell. “Kathy?”

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