The air that seemed to crackle with s****l tension just mere minutes before was amping up into a Molotov cocktail of anxiety and panic.
My throat constricted and as hard as I attempted to settle myself, I was barely holding on. Weakness wasn’t something I wanted to show anyone, but especially not Roe. Her fear was palpable and feeding my own, growing it at an exponential rate.
Flashes of lights, my mom passed out in the corner of a stalled elevator in a shady part of town, a needle in her arm.
Fuck.
I hated that memory and I was trying to tamp it down when I heard Roe whimper next to me.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said as I stepped in front of her. I needed an anchor, and so did she.
The warmth of her body inches from mine was both calming and alarming at the same time. I cupped her face to
