Before I knew it, it was Friday, and I'd survived another week without my husband. Barely.
Isach and Ivy had claimed one of the rooms downstairs as their headquarters. It was now filled with folding tables, vials, potions, candles, mixing bowls, a map, and God only knew what else. They spent a ridiculous amount of time in there, and I was starting to seriously question why. Neither of them had been able to break through whatever magic Yolanda and Dante were using.
When I came downstairs, Whitney and Abby were on the couch. They both looked up at me, compassion and pity written across their faces. I wished people would stop looking at me like that - it only made me feel worse than I already did.
"Hey," Abby said. "How are - "
I held up my hand to silence her. "Don't ask me how I am," I said, an edge to my tone.
Abby clamped her lips shut and nodded. "Sorry," she said with a frown.