Page 102 of Beautiful Terror

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Lol, yeah. I guess he had one in the past. He said it was a bonus for painting a crane.

Alice:

That gave me more questions.

She doesn’t have to say it. I know this doesn’t get better.

But still, I’m holding out hope—for what, I’m not sure.

A couple of hours later, I realize Timmy has turned his location off on his phone. My stomach churns with unease.

Me:

He turned his location off like 15 minutes ago, I guess.

Alice:

So that’s suspicious.

Me:

Yes, very. But knowing him, he’s just being spiteful and trying to upset me. I called, but he didn’t answer.

Alice:

That’s still bad.

Me:

Yeah, it’s completely unacceptable.

Alice:

What’re you going to do?

Me:

I’m not sure. There’s not much I can do until he decides to come back.

He’ll no doubt be all apologetic, yet defensive.

Alice:

And unable to provide answers.

Me:

I’m just feeling super sad right now. But I designed a puzzle and flip flops and a fanny pack for the store, so there’s that.

I was meant to be doing TikToks for my books today for all of next week and haven’t made a single one. Again. Because of his shit behavior.

Alice:

Well, it’s understandable. You’ve got other stuff on your mind.

I close my laptop and curl up on the bed with Sabre. His soft purring is the only thing keeping me grounded.

Timmy’s chaos is like a carnival ride gone rogue, spinning faster and faster while I hold on for dear life.