Rose's Point Of View
I swallowed the copper taste flooding my mouth, staring at the dark space beneath my kitchen table, feeling smaller than I ever had in my entire life. My toes curled against the cold linoleum, trying to anchor myself to something… anything that wasn't sliding straight down into hell.
"I... I will pay it," I sobbed, the words catching like splinters in my throat. Each syllable scraped raw against my vocal cords. "Just don't go near them. Please. I'm begging you on my knees right now."
On the other end of the line, that awful, wet ceiling fan kept up its lazy clack-clack-clack. The sound had haunted my nightmares for months now. Then came a slow exhale, the sound of him blowing out smoke.
