They sat on the top step of the staircase, the candle between them. Rain lashed the windows.
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight, its chime swallowed by the thick silence of the suburban house. Bianka Blue, eighteen and terminally bored, leaned against her bedroom doorframe, arms crossed. In her right hand, she held a sleek, black vape pen—the size of a finger, the guilt of a felony.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the rain seemed to hold its breath.
They sat on the top step of the staircase, the candle between them. Rain lashed the windows.
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight, its chime swallowed by the thick silence of the suburban house. Bianka Blue, eighteen and terminally bored, leaned against her bedroom doorframe, arms crossed. In her right hand, she held a sleek, black vape pen—the size of a finger, the guilt of a felony.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the rain seemed to hold its breath.
