The smell hit me immediately—thick, sour, unmistakable. Wine. Not just a glass or two, either. It clung to the air, soaked into the furniture, mixed with the stale bite of cigarette smoke. An empty glass sat crookedly on the counter, a faint red stain clinging to the inside like it had been abandoned mid-thought. Beside it, an ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts, some crushed out halfway, others burned down to the filter.
She really was stressed out of her mind, huh?
Tessa clapped her hands once, breaking the silence. "Sorry we didn't bring anything."
"It's okay," Eleanor replied softly. "Did you guys need something or…"
"Not really," I said. "We just wanted to check on you."
She let out a breath and leaned back slightly. "Yeah… I appreciate that. I just… I don't know, Evan." She shook her head. "Sophia saved me. I keep thinking about that. I hope she's okay."
"I saw her today," I said. "She's fine. Tough as hell, too."
