TRAPPED BY THE BAD COP

ence ha

ntil she was left alone in the middle of wealth, and every second passed l

eat. She di

he's left the door o

pulse matched it, off-beat, irregular. The c

e like this. Not really. Not l

ine straight. Every painting abstract and sterile. A vase on a marble ped

a home. It

always hid

up, closed her eyes, waited for him to return like a goo

d, she

she was looking for the bathroom. She told herself she was just curious. But really she wanted to see.

allway lined w

. Stark. Faces

ip eyes and a child in her lap that migh

one. Nothing recent. She turned ri

shed i

han a piece of furniture. No laptop. No tech. Just a heavy leat

ouldn'

e

ust lines of thought tigh

ls perception

ithout levera

hem see your

wallow

rategically, clinically. Like every connecti

an by writing down reminders o

he alre

osed t

d to

op

ows of pristine legal volumes

e child

ed star stitched on the side. It m

t nee

never moved forward again.She left the study without breathing. Without l

was, she w

t