"I want to write about something meaningful, Phil. I'm a good reporter, but you haven't given me a chance," I argued, standing in my boss's office, trying to fight my corner. I had no idea what had gotten into me. Yesterday had been the worst Sunday in my life. After drinking the whole bottle of wine, a horrific hangover had shut me down. My burn wasn't too bad, though. Mack's gel really helped with the swelling and pain.
My old friend Rebecca cancelled her visit, saying that she just met a guy and he was taking her out. I was having problems adjusting to being on my own. Back in Glasgow I was always surrounded by friends, but since the scandal I had been hearing less and less from them. Deep down I realised that they never truly cared for me; they wanted be seen with me because I was the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Scotland.
"Ellie, you will write whatever it is we need. Crime is for the big boys. Just stick to what you know."