Òyì nke e mepụtara

Chapter 1 The apartment smelled of cheap whiskey and despair. Becky pushed the door open with her shoulder, her gym bag hitting the floor with a thud. The living room was dark except for the blue glow of the muted TV, illuminating a scene that made her heart clench. Jason was sprawled across their worn leather couch, one arm dangling off the side, a near-empty bottle of Jim Beam clutched loosely in his other hand. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, fixed on a commercial for a cruise line he