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The last thing I needed was for my siblings to catch wind of the chaos brewing in my head: the internal monologue of helplessness.
It was pathetic, and they didn’t need the ammo.
So, I shrugged off their judgmental looks. Even though Dimitri — who’s a lot more perceptive than he looks — tried to dig deeper.
"What's eating at you, bro?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.
I shook my head, trying to brush off his question with a dismissive wave of my hand. I didn’t need him prying too deeply and opening Pandora’s box here. “Nah, nothing," I slurred, the alcohol doing its thing.
Feeling like a wobbly mess even as I sat, I figured it was time to hit the sack. So, I yawned dramatically so the nimrods would get the hint, and clumsily got up from the couch. I struggled to find my balance and staggered a bit.
My coordination decided to take a complete leave of absence, leaving me high and dry.
My feet pulled away from my body, and I faceplanted right on the floor.
That got a good laugh out of the asshole twins.
Ignoring their offers to help, I managed to hoist myself back up, although still swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane.
“Goodnight…” I muttered, walking to the nearest bedroom. “I’ll be jus’ fine…”
The room spun around me like some jacked-up carnival ride on steroids. I stumbled toward the bedroom, hoping that the booze-induced fog would knock out any lingering thoughts and nightmares. Because there was no escaping the sleep that was coming.
As I collapsed onto my bed, wishing for the sandman to grant me a temporary escape from my invading memories from earlier that night. I groaned into my pillow, the scent of whiskey permeating the air. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a way out of this messed-up life. A way to break free from the cycle of violence and darkness that had plagued our family for as long as I could remember. But for now, all I could do was drown my sorrows in the sweet embrace of alcohol and pray that sleep would grant me some sort of reprieve — even just temporary — from the demons that tormented my mind.
2
ANNABELLE
I ploppeddown in my black plastic desk chair, utterly drained, as the stacks of paperwork mocked me. I knew that this cubicle housed a plethora of secrets that I hadn’t uncovered yet. It had to.
The case I was knee-deep in seemed to be running circles around me, though. No matter how much coffee I chugged, it never seemed like enough.
The caffeine wasn't cutting it anymore.
There weren’t enough hours in the day.
A yawn stretched my tired face, reminding me that sleep was long overdue. But damn it, I could feel it in my bones: I was onto something big. The thought of catching some z's while a breakthrough might be within reach made me hesitate.
Just as I wrestled with the decision of powering through or surrendering to exhaustion, my boss's elephantine footsteps thundered down the corridor. His booming voice shattered the silence, and my head snapped up like a startled deer.
"Annabelle!" he bellowed, his presence demanding attention. I locked eyes with him, his expression a mix of concern and authority. He was a tough cookie, but he knew we needed to take care of ourselves.
"Get some sleep!" he ordered, the weight of his words sinking in. “It’s one o’clock in the morning!”
I gazed over my cubicle toward the windows. It was pitch dark outside; no wonder I was so tired. I sighed and nodded, reluctantly acknowledging his wisdom. Deep down, I knew he was right. I couldn't afford to let fatigue cloud my judgment or slow the progress I'd made, whether or not I was on the brink of something.
This case was my baby, and I needed to be firing on all cylinders to crack it wide open.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed back from my desk, leaving the paper tsunami behind — for now. The weight of the investigation still pressed on my shoulders, but I had to trust that a few hours of shuteye would do wonders for my focus and determination.
As I trudged toward the break room, I couldn't shake the itch in the back of my mind. I was so close! The case had its hooks in me, urging me to keep pushing and digging. I was going to find out what the hell was going on in this city, and why no one seemed able to shut down the underground crime. I would find out why the streets ran rampant with drugs and illegal dealings, and how the hell that was just ok.
But for now, I had to surrender to the call of sleep. I had to believe in the process and my gut instinct. So, with a shrug and a "what the hell" attitude, I decided to take my boss's advice. A well-rested mind would only serve me better in my pursuit of justice.
* * *
I draggedmyself through the front door, bone tired from the grueling day on the case. All I wanted was to crash onto my bed and disappear into dreamland, but as luck would have it, my dad, Dominic, was wide awake. At two o’clock in the freaking morning. On his day off. It was bizarre seeing him up and about when the entire world was supposed to be asleep, but it was probably hard to change your schedule when you were used to working overnights.
