The next morning, Penelope’s phone rang, jolting her out of a restless sleep. She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who it was, seeing the unknown number on the screen, she almost cried, terrified even. Sighing, she answered it and listened quietly as the caller gave her another address and instructions like they always did.It's almost a norm now.After ending the call, she knew she had to leave early. Dressing quickly, she scribbled a note for her mother, explaining that she had some errands to run and would be back later. She didn’t mention the call or the address; it was better not to worry her mother unnecessarily.She slipped out of the house and got into her car, the morning sun just starting to rise. The city was beginning to wake up, normally she'd appreciate the sight and feeling but her mind was focused on the how horrible her morning and the rest of the day was definitely going to be as she drove, Penelope’s journey took her through different parts of the city, some f
She hesitated, the glass still in her hand. The comforting gesture had taken a very unsettling turn, and now she found herself grappling with a surge of mistrust. What was in the milk? And why would Laura, who had seemed so kind and attentive, give her something that smelled strange?Penelope’s grip tightened on the glass as she tried to decide what to do next.She glanced at the TV, the flickering images and writings barely registering in her mind as her thoughts raced. She could still feel Laura presence in the kitchen. The realization hit her like a cold wave—there was poison in the milk, Wolfsbane. This one was nearly scentless and would burn her insides in minutes. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her composure.She couldn't confront the maid directly. If the girl had managed to muster the courage to give a fully awake and sober half human that could perceive just anything a poisoned drink, who knew what else she was capable of?Her mind spun with quest
SOMEWHERE A rough-looking man entered the corner store in , his very presence causing a ripple of discomfort among the customers. His clothes were filthy, and the overpowering stench of dirt, smoke, and alcohol surrounded him like an invisible cloud. He walked with a slow, deliberate gait, his eyes scanning the shelves for his usual poison.Reaching the alcohol section, he grabbed a few bottles of the cheapest liquor available. As he made his way to the counter, he ignored the whispers and disgusted looks thrown his way. The cashier, a young woman with dark circles under her eyes, looked up and visibly recoiled. She quickly composed herself, though the disdain never left her eyes.“Just these,” the man grunted, his voice a gravelly rasp that seemed to echo his rough exterior.“That’ll be twenty-five bucks,” the cashier said, trying to maintain a professional tone despite her obvious discomfort.The man pulled out a crumpled wad of cash from his pocket, peeling off bills and slapping
Jefferson stood there for a moment, watching the mysterious woman disappear into the distance. The weight of what she just said began to sink in, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling exposed in the street. The gravity of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. Did she know who his benefactor is?Of course she would know, else she wouldn't have threatened him with it.He hurried the remaining distance to his apartment and basically ran into building, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the grimy walls of the narrow hallway. Reaching his door, he fumbled with the keys, finally managing to unlock it and slip inside. He leaned against the door, trying to steady his breathing. Jefferson’s apartment was a cluttered mess, reflecting the chaos of his life. He dumped the paper bag of alcohol on the small kitchen table and paced the room, the woman's words replaying in his mind. His benefactor withdrawing support meant he would be on
Penelope stared at the phone after the man her friend had recommended ended the call abruptly. The conversation had been brief and unproductive, leaving her frustrated and more than a little annoyed.She scoffed, muttering to herself, “Half the money I’m offering is enough to change his life. What an arrogant douchebag.” She cursed under her breath, unable to fathom why anyone would turn down such a generous offer.He wouldn't even recommend someone else. Was he that full of himself? Being great at one's job doesn't give the right to be arrogant and rude. She was sure there was no way he could work up that amount of money she was offering in a year.“Lousy human,” she groaned, throwing the phone onto her bed with a scoff. She stood up, her frustration boiling over, and began pacing the room, biting her neatly manicured nails. The rejection stung more than she wanted to admit, and she could feel the familiar anxiety creeping up on her.Yes, she had earlier dismissed the idea of running
Anastasia found herself lingering in the baby store longer than she had anticipated or intended. Each item she picked up seemed to spark a new wave of excitement for Cecil and her impending motherhood. She chose a variety of adorable unisex baby clothes in soft pastels and vibrant prints in, an assortment of plush toys, and a beautifully crafted wooden mobile adorned with tiny animals. She also selected a high-quality baby carrier, a set of organic skincare products for newborns, and a few essential items like diapers, wipes, and bottles.As her cart filled up, she realized she might have gone a bit overboard. By the time she reached the checkout counter, it was clear she would need help getting everything to the car. The cashier, noticing the impressive haul, called for assistance. A young store employee arrived with a cart to help transport the purchases.Outside, the driver opened the trunk, and they carefully loaded the bags. The trunk quickly filled to capacity, and some items ha
Penelope woke to a loud crash the next morning, her heart pounding in her chest. She washed her face quickly and tied her robe before rushing downstairs with a panicked look etched on her features. As she hurried down the stairs, she almost stumbled, catching herself just in time on the railing.Her mind raced with worry. Did Laura decide to go after her mother? The thought sent a chill down her spine, and she felt a growl forming in her throat as she neared the kitchen, where the sound had come from.Bursting into the kitchen, Penelope let out a sigh of relief at the scene before her. Her mother was standing at the counter, dicing a large pile of carrots, looking perfectly fine. Laura, was kneeling on the floor, carefully picking up the shards of a broken plate.Penelope took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "What happened here?" she asked, her voice still tinged with anxiety.Penelope exhaled heavily, trying to steady her breathing. Her mother turned around, noticing
She tiptoed toward Laura's room, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob for a moment. Was she really going to do this? The thought of invading someone's privacy made her uncomfortable, but that wasn't something she should be thinking about at that moment. She clearly would be out of her mind if she dwelled on it.Gently, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was modestly furnished, with a neatly made bed, a small dresser, and a nightstand. Everything seemed ordinary, but she knew better than to take things at face value. She carefully opened the dresser drawers, rifling through the neatly folded clothes. There was nothing out of the ordinary—just the typical belongings of a young woman: brushes, hair gel, hairbands, combs, lotions, stuff like that.Next, she checked the nightstand. There were a few personal items: a small bottle of perfume, another hairbrush, and a couple of books. She opened the drawer and found a notebook. Flipping throu