Kelly left Steph’s house, and the trees along the street leaned a little towards her. The streetlights flickered as she passed, casting shadows in portentous patterns. She was sick of this bullshit.
The conversation with Steph had been bad enough, the messages from whoever the fuck she was Herald for. She wondered who else was going to become a mouthpiece.
Her cell rang, the display read “Chris,” and her heart jumped into her throat and then down to her feet.
She picked up. “Hey you. Tell me something nice. I’ve had a long night.”
“IT’S TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME.”