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The room smelled like stale cigarettes, the stench clinging to everything around her. Deirdre was seated at the foot of the small bed, leaning forward with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Her red hair fell forward in waves, surrounding her face like an amber cocoon. She knew he would come. All she had to do was wait.
The darkness of the room faded as dim, morning light streamed in through the heavy, orange curtains. And Deirdre waited, silent and still. He would come for her. He always had, and he always would.
The darkness of the room faded as dim, morning light streamed in through the heavy, orange curtains. And Deirdre waited, silent and still. He would come for her. He always had, and he always would.
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