So easy. No. The clock snapped back. 6:04pm. I took a deep breath. My mouth was dry.Fake it till you make it, Adrienne. I picked up the spoon. ...tirred. Let the steam cling to my skin, as if it could flush out the sickness. My aunt’s moans pulsed in my memory.How long as this been going on? The thought surged through my mind over and over, until the boiling water spit in my face.I grit my teeth. Straightened. “This is so fucked up,” I muttered. “What, babe?” My boyfriend’s voice. I liked the way my senior executive and number two man exacted his quid pro quo.That evening at the condo, Greg, Sean, and Elsa again presented to the five of us our latest revision of the plans for the house in Dillonville. The place was shaking out to be about eighteen thousand square feet of space under roof, with several out buildings for special purposes, including a security post with live-in housing near the gate and live-in accommodations for staff in a slightly detached carriage. More

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