7
Gabrielle
Honestly, I was my own worst enemy. Everything I touched turned to scheiße.
What had I been thinking last night? Yes, I’d had fun, but I’d blurted out my secrets to Brooke’s friends—virtual strangers to me—and what if another of the patrons in the bar had overheard? Our table had been in the corner and the jukebox made it difficult to hear conversations, but even so… Nightmares or no nightmares, I was never touching alcohol again.
Ernie had noticed me getting bored and brought over a stack of dog-eared paperbacks, bless him, but I couldn’t concentrate on spy thrillers right now. All I could think of was my own unravelling horror story. Would Phil be able to help? I needed her now more than ever. She’d left me a note yesterday, and at least my family had backed off.
Your br
