Abby
I’m sitting by myself in the breakroom, my fingers wrapped around a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine. The coffee has already gone cold, but it’s not like I was drinking it anyway. The taste was too bitter for what I need right now.
Karl stepped out just a few minutes ago. He said he had to make a call, and I’m too numb to question it. Right now, I welcome the silence of the breakroom. I needed it after that little display on the stage.
I can still feel the heat from the stage lights, the biting sting of Logan’s harsh words. “You should know your ingredients.” His voice replays in my head like a broken record, his voice pulsing alongside the pounding headache I have right now.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Bryan strides in, his phone pressed to his
