Mark fumbled with the keys to the old apartment, his movements stiff. He hadn't been back here since Kate collapsed. Everything felt like it had happened a lifetime ago, even though it had only been days.
Kate stood beside him, unusually quiet, her hood pulled up, sunglasses hiding her crimson eyes despite the overcast afternoon. When the door creaked open, both of them stopped.
Their mother was already inside.
She sat on the couch like she owned the place, legs crossed, a wine glass in one hand and her favorite overly sweet perfume clinging to every inch of the air. A middle-aged man sat beside her, sharp suit, fake tan, eyes like a hawk with dollar signs in his pupils.
"There you two are!" their mother exclaimed, getting up with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show. You didn't answer my texts, Mark."
Mark's jaw tightened. Kate instinctively stepped forward and muttered, "We've been... busy."