The strong stench of shame clung to me as I stumbled back home. I couldn’t believe what I had done. Leah Garcia never ran from anybody, ever. So, what was that? I had become someone I didn’t recognize. Making deals with the devil, kissing clients, running away shamelessly? I might as well dye my hair green and get a face tattoo.

“Marcy,” I called as I entered the apartment, desperately hoping she was home. I barged into her room, and found her sitting on her bed, going ...