Chapter 4
Chapter 4
The drive to Lila’s apartment was silent, save for the hum of the engine and Janice’s occasional sharp inhale as she shifted her ankle. Lila drove with one hand, the other resting on the gearshift, her favorite remaining stiletto still on her foot—a sleek black dagger that tapped the pedal like a metronome of menace.
“You know, you should really elevate that,” Lila said, glancing at Janice’s foot propped against the glovebox. “I have a professional-grade massage oil at my place. Pure arnica, peppermint, and a pinch of something I get from a little apothecary. It’s miraculous for swelling.”
Janice stared out the window. “I have ice at home.”
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