40

DAMIAN

For the next few hours, I bury myself in the confines of my office with the door shut against everyone else. Even Alice knows better than to come knocking at a time like this.

Today, six months ago.

A memory that shakes me to my very core, one I have forced shut in the recesses of my brain, now bursting forth like a barely contained explosion.

Images keep pouring into my head…all drenched in red, red spilling onto my hands and soaking the rug, seeping into the lines on the tiles.

The maid's mortified expression when she ran into the scene with Alice. A lot of the household staff had resigned the next morning.

A chuckle slips out.

I lift my head to stare drunkenly at the almost empty vodka bottle on my desk. The third one. I'm reaching for it when a knock sounds on the door.

“Go away!” I slur. Pouring myself a half glass, I spin around to study the thick drapes on the window.

“It's Mel, baby.” Another rap. “Open up.”

I only see more red. “I said go away!” Without remorse, I g