Vincent’s POV
She was slumped at her desk with her cheek resting on her arm and a half-empty bottle beside her when I came in.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, wondering if I had missed along the line. I hadn’t known Rachel was a big drinker.
The office was dark except for the desk lamp and the city behind the glass. She looked smaller than she ever did when she was awake and moving through the world. Usually Rachel carried herself like an sss queen, even exhausted and angry, she always seemed composed.
Not tonight.
Tonight she looked worn thin.
The lamp cast a soft circle of light over her desk, catching the rim of the bottle and the scattered papers beside it. I crossed to her slowly and touched her shoulder.
“Rachel.”
She didn’t move at first so I nudged her, a little harder
