Dark Muse

Chapter 57

Chapter fifty-seven

Christianna

Meg guides me gently into the living room and presses my coffee mug into my hand. The new couches still smell faintly of leather and packing foam.

She must have let the dogs in. Bass presses against my side, solid and warm, while Treble wriggles until his bony little hips dig into mine. He nudges his head under my coffee cup, insistent.

I set the mug down and fold forward, burying my face in fur. I take the comfort where it’s offered.

Meg speaks quietly behind me. I don’t catch the words.

I focus on breathing. On staying here. On not spiraling.

I want to message my therapist. I also want nothing to do with my phone.