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“Don’t know. Don’t care.” I guzzle my drink. “Now, be a good girl, eat your food, and entertain yourself.” I set the glass down and head toward the door.

“Will you be late?” she calls out to my back.

“I’m always late.” I leave the office without giving her the chance to reply.

It’ll be a long night for her, but she asked for it.

11

Entertain myself?

Did Julian forget what day and age we’re in?

What am I supposed to do? Count my fingers and toes?

Sing the damn national anthem?

Us humans don’t entertain ourselves anymore.

We let social media do that trick.

Unfortunately for me, I don’t have that option. The moment I saw people commenting on my latest vacation photos, asking if it was funded by the money my father stole, I knew I needed a break.

After eating, I dump my food into the trash, then clean up Julian’s, muttering, “Wasteful prick.”

When I look around his office, my eyes land on the bar.

If you can’t fight boredom with brain rot, might as well make yourself a drink.

I grab Julian’s glass and sweep my gaze over the options.

There are no chasers. Just straight alcohol.

I eeny, meeny, miny, moe until my finger stops on an expensive tequila. We kept the brand regularly stocked in my college sorority house.

I fill my glass, grab the bottle, and take them with me to the couch.

I cringe at the first sip.

Straight tequila is not for the weak.

And I, admittingly, am the weak.

I make myself comfortable before opening Netflix on my phone. Julian gave it back to me earlier. As I drink and try to find a show, my gaze keeps traveling to the door Julian left through.

My curiosity is getting the better of me.

“Don’t do it,” I mutter. “Don’t do it, Genesis.”

To get my mind off possibly making a bad decision, I call Darcy.

Darcy and I have been best friends since middle school. We met in our private-school restroom when she asked me for a tampon. She, Melissa, and I became inseparable until Melissa’s death. I’m grateful I had Darcy with me during that time. We were each other’s grieving partner.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls and texts?” Darcy asks as soon as she answers. “I’ve been worried about you!”

“Sorry.” I frown and finish off my drink. “My life has been absolute madness the past twenty-four hours.”

“Is it true? All the stuff they’re saying about your dad? Is he…” She searches for the right word. “Dead?”