Blythe's P.O.V.
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By the time my shift was over, I was exhausted. I tried asking Mary if I could stay to help her close, but she insisted I leave. It was my shift to close with her anyway, but since we were dead, and I had been there literally all day, she practically pushed me out the door.
The walk home was silent and cold. I hate the cold. It's so different from Sunny California. However, the way I practically jogged home had me staying warm. Or maybe that was the nerves getting to me.
I hurried inside my shi.tty apartment building. The walls are so thin that I could hear people screaming, fighting, and fu.cking on my way to the third floor. I unlocked my door, looked around to make sure no one was following me, and then ducked
