The caller laughed. “And tell them what? Someone warned you about your guilty client? Somehow, I don’t think you’ll make that call. Watch your back. Or you’ll end up like Alyssa.”
The call disconnected.
Spasms rocked her abdomen. Throwing her hand over her mouth, she stumbled into the bathroom, making it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach.
Her head pounded in time with her speeding heart. She rinsed out her mouth, and, as she spit into the sink, she caught sight of her weary face in the mirror. Only her swollen lips showed any evidence of her earlier bliss. Mascara circled her eyes and a line of black streaked down one cheek. Her hair stuck to her sweat-soaked head.
She could be staring at her mother’s reflection.
No, she would not turn into her.
Every day people came to a crossroad and were forced to make a choice. You could give in to the darkness, admit defeat, and give up or you could travel the harder path and fight against the abyss. For a couple of years, she’d wallowed in the shadows until she’d forged a window and escaped, vowing never to return.
With the alcohol purged from her system, she dialed the only person she could trust, hoping she wouldn’t live to regret it.