NOAH
The damn bottle of Jack was empty. Again. Or was it the same bottle? Maybe. It was empty before. Earlier? Last night?
The bottle wavered in front of me, and I frowned. Why was the table moving? And when had the sun come up? Wasn't it, like, midnight?
"Well, here you are, morning glory."
A series of heel clicks-way, way too loud for my aching head-was coming my way. I squinted, turning to look at who might be in my house. In heels.
For a brief, other-worldly moment, I thought of Angela and once again, the fleeting, ethereal memory of seeing her recently tickled at a corner of my brain. I remembered a thousand different times I'd sat at this table and listened to the sound of her approaching me, her heels somehow seductive on the tile, as if I could already picture her legs unde
