Frida

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of Stanley’s gentle snoring. I smile to myself, feeling a deep sense of warmth in my chest.

I remember the events of the previous night. Stanley told me what happened to Molly, but it seemed that he didn’t want to tell me the entire story.

I turn my head to look at him, taking in the sight of his peaceful expression as he slept. I slowly untangle myself from his embrace, careful not to wake him up. I make my way to the kitchen, start a pot ...