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My worst nightmare had come true. Mina Olind was nothing more than a truly talented actress. The person she loved most was just one of her devoted admirers, too.

I was all alone now.

I didn’t answer, just hugged him even tighter. For the last time, I smelled his fresh scent. My eyes were already beginning to fill with longing. I opened them slightly, meeting, no, melting in his blues.

I whispered to his lips. I was casting the final word in a spell. “Goodnight, Remi.”

Our sweet dream has finally come to an end. Thank you, my dear.

Raymond smiled. Like a grin, it was quite weird. “Goodnight, my love.”

It was over.

At least for me.

Angelica was right. The boys would only objectify me. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a master, a savior, a salvation, an ‘angel’…

You’re my real. Filthy, liar Remi. We could never be real. We were the opposite of the real; we were nothing but a deception. You liar, you liar, you liar!

If you won’t love me for who I really am, why did you kiss me so beautifully? Why did you let me lose myself in you? Why did you make me feel guilty for waking up from this dream?

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

The next day, when he offered to drop me off at the agency, I declined. It was Thursday: the day Angelica died. Since then, I visited the graveyard every Thursday; it had become a ritual for me. Fortunately, Raymond was unaware of this. At least I’d learned to keep that part of my life private.

After leaving the graveyard, I called the agency to let them know I wouldn’t be coming in. All I wanted now was to go home and get some sleep. I felt like a ghost, wandering aimlessly without a body. I was waiting to leave this world as soon as possible.

By the moment I crossed my threshold, my chest swelled with dread.

Someone was there.

Inside the home where I’d lived alone for years. It couldn’t be Remi; I knew he was tied up in a committee meeting. An instinct took over, forcing me to call out.

“Dad?”

I navigated through room after room until I reached the kitchen. There, I was met with the sight I had both feared and anticipated. My father’s face, framed by aged white hair, had drained to a sallow pallor, the skin around his eyes a deep, bruised purple. He lay contorted on the floor, staring vacantly at the ceiling. A faint purple froth had gathered at the corners of his mouth, his eyes rolled back. I didn’t know what substance he had taken, but the effect was devastating.

When we had visited the doctor before, we were told this had been going on for years—it had likely begun back when he first left home. It had been subtly woven into his bloodstream in minute doses over time, making it nearly impossible to purge.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

I asked sharply. My life was already in shambles, and I didn’t want to deal with this stupid man. “Didn’t I tell you to stay at the Buzz? Raymond even prepared a place for you to stay. Why did you come here?”

“Raymond…”

My father murmured. I bent down to try to help him up, grabbing his shoulder, but he was too big, I couldn’t move him.

“At least go to bed, Dad, don’t stink up the kitchen.”

He seemed not to hear me. “Raymond… That bastard…”

My hands faltered. I cuffed my father on the back of his head. “Who are you calling a bastard?”

He turned his narrowed eyes toward me. “Ah, poor Mina, your fate is even more wretched than your mother’s… poor thing…”

Brushing off his words, I shrugged and pushed myself up. “I see you’ve started cobbling sentences together again; your wits must be back. Get up and go to bed now. Don’t make a mess of the kitchen.”

But my father didn’t budge. I had long past the point of getting angry at him. Leaving my things on the table, I went over and poured myself a glass of water.