Chapter 6
VIOLET
Saturday afternoon
The next morning, I have the worst hangover of my entire life.
Except it has nothing do with alcohol and everything to do with Marilyn’s brother, a bastard I can’t seem to get out of my head.
It’s a Heath hangover. And I wish it would go away.
I try to sleep it away at night, try to run it away at the rising dawn. I try to freeze it away on my frigid fifteen block walk to Marilyn’s hospital room. And I try to shop it out my system two hours after I leave the beautiful brunette’s bedside.
Times Square is stuffed to the gills on this cold Saturday afternoon, packed to capacity with traveling tourists. Christmas has come and blanketed its cheer all over the city. The air shimmers with excitement and lights, and as I amble over to Rockefeller Center,
