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‘Seriously, Karen? We spend eight hours every day with these people already. People you don’t actually like. Deadbeat hicks, I think you said?’

 

She gives his bicep a light punch and laughs as she looks up at him. ‘Okay, so maybe that was sort of unkind… and I get that you do actually like them. So.’ She shrugs and grins. ‘A housewarming is a great way to get to know them better, no? I get to show off my excellent and chic new apartment and I also get to know your work-friends and learn to like them.’

Yeah… no. Suddenly hazard lights are flashing and horns are tooting. This promises all of the sinister chaos of a clown-car in a horror movie, but in party form. Ill-advised doesn’t cover it. It’s like…  Ancient Troy—See that big wooden horse out there? Let’s haul it in —level bad.

Did he mention ill-advised? His body obviously got the message because his heart is thumping and can feel his t-shirt sticking to his back.

But the big problem he’s staring at here is that his default response to Karen’s plans has become no because of… reasons. Lots of reasons why whatever she wants them to do together will be bad or won’t work out or will end in tears. Not that he’s wrong, but she’s seeing a pattern: she’s started calling him Chicken Little. So it looks like he’s going to have to suck it up this time, because he’s pretty sure he’s on a final warning.

He takes a deep breath and tries to visualize a tranquil meadow in summertime with butterflies fluttering and birdsong filling the air. He takes another deep breath for good measure and slowly breathes out. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

And again. It’s almost working.

‘You’re right,’ he concedes, and he ruffles her hair. ‘Okay… so who do we ask? Who gets to be the lucky first guests at Casa Filippelli?’

‘Well, we’re gonna need to keep it small… much as I love my apartment, it is kind of dinky. So, Ryan and Kelly. And Andy, because he’s kind of a friend, and he doesn’t know anyone here either. And it would look mean if I didn’t ask him. And Pam and Roy.’

He freezes.

‘Roy? No. Seriously? He…no.’ Fuck. ‘He won’t want to come. And Pam does classes and stuff at night. What about Kevin? Or Oscar?’

‘Roy really wants to come. I already asked him and, seriously, he was psyched. I didn’t get to speak to Pam, but he said he’d tell her.’ She turns to face him. ‘Hey, it’ll be great for him and Pam to do a couples thing now they’re dating, don’t you think? They’re really cute together. And Ryan and Kelly can both come. And Andy.’

He can’t meet her eye. He drops his head back against the couch while he tries to select the right words and arrange them into a sentence which will make this not happen. His best supportive-boyfriend intentions are thrown to the wind. This is a terrible idea—incomprehensibly bad—but anything he says will incriminate him.

And where has it come from? Karen actively—and vocally—resents spending time with her coworkers when she isn’t contractually obliged to. He can’t even begin to understand why she wants to do this.

Actually, that’s not true. He can think of a few reasons right off the top of his head:

Reason 1: she wants to make him confront Pam and Roy’s relationship.

Reason 2: she genuinely wants to get to know… No. Strike that. It’s ludicrous.

Reason 3: she wants Pam to confront his relationship with Karen. She’s started seeing things that aren’t there—she says Pam spends half her day ‘gazing longingly’ at him.

Reason 4: she wants to study his behaviour around Pam so that she can forensically examine it and deconstruct it into the early hours for weeks to come.

Reason 5: all of the above. Except 2.

Chances are that this is just the latest, and most extreme, in a series of tests Karen has set for him since he admitted last month that he still had feelings for Pam. She’s normally more subtle. This is high-viz strategy. Visible from space.

But, when he puts it like that, it makes her sound… obsessive. And she is so much cooler than that. And he has given her reason to be watchful.

So he needs to chill and take this at face-value. His girlfriend wants to organise a housewarming in her new home, which is absolutely one hundred percent reasonable. These are the only people she can invite because they’re the only people she knows in Scranton. Maybe it’s as simple as that?

‘Yeah. This should be fun. You’re right. And you need to meet party Kelly. That’s… you’ll see.’

He leans his head back against the wall, shuts his eyes and strokes her hair, inhaling slowly and deeply. He’s become practised at focusing on the positives: He should consider himself lucky, Karen is smart, fun and pretty… and she wants to make more of an effort to get to know people here. And she wants him, and Pam… is with Roy.

She deserves his support; she’d never have set foot in Scranton if it wasn’t for him. He feels pretty guilty about that. For a number of reasons.

 

And after all, it’s just one night. How bad could it possibly be?

***

‘That. Is. A. Fantastic idea!’ her best friend Julia shrieked. ‘When she sees you together, sees how great you are together, she’ll back off! She’ll feel stupid that she ever thought she had a chance… Jim’ll be blown away by your all-round fantasticness and gorgeousness, and she’ll slink back to her boring, small-town lair…’

She hopes she’s right because that’s NOT how her little sister, Sofia, sees it.  Here’s how that conversation went:

‘Oh.’

‘Oh?’

‘That sounds… dangerous? Don’t know if I’d want the woman my boyfriend has ‘feelings’ for over for dinner. I mean, who does that? Especially if you’re actually right, and she likes him too. You’re crazy, Karen.’ 

Her sister’s biased though; she’s never met Jim, but she’s gone right off him since she found out about the ‘feelings’ conversation. Every time they’ve called each other since, the first thing she’s said every single fucking time is, ‘Please tell me you’ve dumped his ass already.’ At this point she firmly reminds Sofia that he’s really upped his game since then and things are better than ever. This is always met with silence. Except for the first time, when she’d sarcastically muttered, ‘Guilt.’

So basically, she’s stopped calling her, or answering her calls. She sends her cheerful and positive texts instead like she’s some kind of random inspirational quote generator, and she ignores the replies.

Because none of this advice matters; she’s always been a risk-taker. And it’s absolutely true—Jim is taking their relationship much more seriously since he owned up to not having completely let go of his old Pam-crush. She knows her strengths and she’s going to wow everyone with her hosting skills and charm and wit, and her beautiful (but diminutive and too expensive) ‘executive’ apartment. Especially Jim.

And, admittedly, there’s every possibility she’s just being paranoid about Pam wanting him too. Overthinking it.

Maybe she just needs this to put her mind at rest?

***

Karen takes the flowers from Roy and the wine from Pam, and thanks them with a gracious smile and some deft pleasantry. She looks and sounds practised and polished and glamorous… and she is managing to look genuinely delighted about the evening ahead. Beautiful, clever and a great actress. He doesn’t deserve her.

‘Jim’ll take your coats,’ she tells them. They hand them over, and he does as he’s told and takes them through to lay them on the bed. See, they’re a team! He can absolutely do this.

He’s spent the three hours since he got changed at his place helping Karen to get everything ready; he wants it to work out for her sake, so he’s been lugging beer and wine, vacuuming. It’s looking better now; she’s put up a couple of black and white movie prints, and she bought some cushions and throws to make it feel less like a mid-range hotel suite. Scented candles (Mindful Zen Garden, apparently—probably because Wet Grass Infused with Essence of Air Freshener was too big for the label) are burning in each room. She’s been singing her way through her Prince collection with the volume turned up loud as she adds the finishing touches. This mainly involves moving the glasses and bottles that he just put on the living room table back through to the kitchen. And rearranging all the throws and cushions from where she told him to put them 10 minutes ago.

They’re good to go now, and it’ll all be over in about five hours max. Five hours of beer and conversation. He can do that. It might even be fun. He congratulates himself on having done the Right Thing.

He congratulates himself one more time for not even breaking his stride when Pam was revealed in a red dress with a close-fitting top and shortish, flared skirt.

He saw though.

It looks simple, but she’s just… wow. She doesn’t often wear red and it really suits her. And her hair’s down and… right now would already be too late to be having these thoughts.

Karen

Karen

Karen

Karen

Karen

And no matter how stunning Pam may or may not tonight, for the past two weeks he hasn’t been able to look at her without the anger rising in him. He’s disappointed for her... in her. Because… seriously? Roy?

That’s one reason. The ugly truth might be that the main reason he’s been avoiding looking at her since she left Phyllis’s wedding with him is that, shamefully, he’s scared that he’ll see that he’s made her happy again. The natural order of things is that Roy makes her unhappy, and he puts the smile back on her face.

And that makes him a needy asshole. He actually hates himself.

‘No, absolutely not. You’re right on time,’ he hears Karen reassuring Pam. ‘Oh, great!’ she replies. ‘We got lost and I thought… we might be late.’ Her voice is unfamiliar. Too high and too loud. Brittle. She’s uncomfortable too.

Probably on account of him blanking her since the wedding. Or his coldness whenever she tries to speak to him. Or how whenever he can’t avoid answering her, he talks to her like she’s a junior employee. Yup, he has actually been behaving like a shunned eight year-old.

He’s yanked out of this much-practised self-flagellation by Andy’s arrival. He looks dapper—that’s probably the polite word—in a tweed jacket, with paisley-print silk vest and matching neckerchief and purple cords. ‘A merry eventide to you all!’ he announces, in an accent that’s maybe meant to be some variation of upper-class English.

He can never figure this guy out. He’s met thespian Andy, anger-management-issue Andy and various other wild caricatures. There’s probably a bona fide Andy in there, but he hasn’t met him yet. He’s basically harmless though, unless provoked.

The bell rings again soon after, and he opens the door to Kelly and Ryan. ‘Hey, Kelly! Whoah…’ he says, catching her arm as she falls right into him like she’d been propping herself upright on the door. Her party obviously started some time ago.

‘Hey, everyone!’ she shrieks as she steadies herself and lets go of his shirt to sway past him.

Scranton branch has met drunk Kelly before and it’s something to behold. As he takes her jacket, he sees that tonight, she’s a spangly purple princess, brandishing a bottle of Jose Cuervo like she’s about to burst into a sea shanty. When she’s like this, she’s like a firework in the hand of a toddler snorting crushed m&m’s.

‘Evening, Jim. Karen,’ says Ryan as he props himself up against the door frame. He obviously thinks he’s cooler than Kelly, but he’s giving his own drunkenness away with his Very. Careful. Enunciation, and the way he has to close one eye to focus on Karen’s face as she welcomes them.

Oh my god this is fantastic Karen you are so lucky! I am totally going to get an apartment over here when I save up enough money and move out of my parents’ house AT LAST won’t that be great Ryan?’ Kelly narrows her eyes. ‘RYAN??’

Ryan shrugs. He looks bored already and he hasn’t even crossed the threshold yet. He probably doesn’t want Karen to think he’s bothered by her knocking him back earlier on today. To be fair to Ryan, the reply she sent him was more than a little bit condescending.

Karen doesn’t seem thrown by it—she’s probably well-used to turning guys down—and she doesn’t look bothered by his exaggerated indifference either. She gives them both a cheerful grin. ‘I’d love to show you guys…?’ she starts, her voice trailing off as Kelly marches unsteadily past her and through the doorway towards the rest of the apartment. She isn’t waiting for any guided tour. ‘Oh. My. God…,’ he hears from the kitchen as he turns to their other guests. Pam is already sitting down, Roy is squeezing in next to her, rubbing her shoulder, fucking fondling her knee…  and Andy is looking through Karen’s CD collection. Nobody wants a tour.

‘What can I get you all to drink? Kelly?’ He probably shouldn’t encourage her, but he’s kind of glad Kelly’s turned up shit-faced; she’s loud and impervious to disinterest at the best of times. Nobody will have to dig deep for small talk now; all he needs to do is to achieve the right balance between keeping her fuelled and firing on all cylinders, but not so drunk that she throws up on Karen’s brand-new, cream-colored carpet.

‘Great to see you all,’ he says, enthusiastically. ‘Make yourselves at home?’

When he’s memorised their drinks requests, he heads through to the kitchen to pour them. This needn’t be difficult; he just needs to get his head back in the game. Away from the red dress and the person wearing it. And you know what? It actually feels good to finally be doing something to make Karen happy.

He doesn’t need to look at Pam’s face to feel the tension radiating off of her. He’ll think about what that means later. Karen does look happy, and that’s all that should concern him. It's going to be fine. Roy is being cheerful and doesn’t seem homicidally minded. He’s being weirdly friendly and polite—frankly, it’s like he’s suffered some kind of neurological incident—and so he’s relaxed enough to open another beer for himself. He’d been planning to hold back in case the glassware started flying, but it’s all good. Positive thinking, Halpert.

Karen’s happy. That’s what matters.

Pam doesn’t concern him.

Karen’s happy. That’s what matters.

Pam doesn’t concern him.

Karen’s happy…

***

Is it horribly awkward? No, but it’s not easy either. Even with Kelly’s long, seriously funny monologue about her family’s non-stop domestic drama, and Andy’s weird talent for finding a relevant song whenever she stops for breath, the conversation gaps weigh heavy. Maybe that’s why they’re all throwing back their drinks as fast as Jim can pour them.

She sneaks a peek at her watch; they’ve only been here for about an hour, and everyone is at least tipsy. She’s not normally a big drinker, but the only thing stopping her from sinking herself into a stupor tonight is experience: when Roy’s had too much… well, she needs to keep it sensible, because she needs to be ready to hustle him out into a cab if need be.

There’s also the worry about what she might say or do if she’s not in full control of her faculties, because she’s scarily prone to honesty when she’s been drinking. Better safe than… well, having to call Michael on Monday and tell him she’s not coming back because she’s had an epiphany and she’s already on her way to start saving endangered mammals in the Yukon.

Actually, she’s seen a leaflet for a foundation art course up there that looks good. She might do it anyway.

‘Can I fetch you a fresh drink?’ Roy asks her, giving her hand a squeeze.

‘Uh, no. I’m fine for now. Thanks, though.’

‘Some snacks, then?’

Roy is Making An Effort. He’s like a reformed bad boy who’s just been given a hall monitor badge. It should be cute… he’s genuinely trying to be charming and interested and affectionate, and she appreciates it and all but, oh my god…this should be making her happy. He’s actually doing all that boyfriend stuff that she always said she wanted!

It’s just that… it doesn’t sit right on him? Or with her. It’s ham acting, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep it up. Possibly not even until the end of the evening, if she knows anything about him. He sank his first bottle of beer in no time and right away he cracked open another and another and another… and they haven’t even talked about ordering food yet.

‘It’ll be boring, Roy… and you don’t like these people!’ she’d said, horrified, when he told her proudly what he’d signed them up for. ‘No. I can tell her it’s my dad’s birthday, or… I’ve got a watercolor class or something. Anything.’

But he’d just given her a big smile and pulled her into a hug. ‘But I need to get to know your people, Pam, just like you said. You were right.’ She’s a very bad person for thinking that it sounds like jovial aliens have seized control of his brain.

How could she say no? He’s doing exactly what she told him he had to do if they were going to go on seeing each other. It feels… kinda like he’s called her bluff?

So here they are. And all they need to do is get through the next few hours without fuss. It’s just… she feels so out of place and wrong here. Jim’s still ignoring her, and Karen is still watching her like she doesn’t trust her or something. And she feels really LOUD!! in her new red dress. She made herself wear it tonight because she’s been daring herself to put the pastels and greys away, to be more colourful and less inconspicuous.

She’s never worn anything like this… this sexy or this expensive before; she was honestly taken aback when she saw how well the dress fitted her in the shop. She even allowed herself—albeit blushing furiously—to agree with the assistant that she looked good in it. As she stepped out of an exclusive boutique she wouldn’t have gone within a mile of in her previous life, holding the ribbon handles of a luxury paper bag, she felt like a new Pam.

Unfortunately, the dress didn’t come with instructions for wannabe socialites, explaining where and when it would be appropriate to wear it. The apartment and the décor and everyone else apart from Kelly and Andy—and they don’t count! — is casual and understated in black and grey and tastefully neutral, even Roy, but she looks like a freaking warning beacon that’s been mislaid in a crypt.

Since she got it home, she’s had a hopeful picture in her head of the look on his face when he got to see her wearing it. But he’s looking everywhere other than at her—probably because it’s burning his retinas—and she just feels stupid now.

Karen, of course, looks really sleek and sophisticated in an expensive looking grey silk shirt with black wool pants without even trying. And she’s made up like she actually knows what she’s doing, and not like she’s in sixth grade and she’s just found her mom’s make-up bag. If she didn’t suspect Karen hated her, she’d ask her to show her how she does it.

Kelly’s obviously had the same thought. She’s squinting intensely at her hostess, swaying on her six-inch glittery purple heels. ‘KAREN! You need to tell me how you do your eye-liner like that? Oh my god you look so gooooorgeous!’

Can’t argue with that; she does. She gets why he prefers her; she’d just rather not have to spend her free time watching the way she’s constantly handling him. Caressing him. She has to avert her eyes because it’s unbearable. Like, literally. It hurts in a way she didn’t realise she had the physical or mental capacity for. That Yukon art course isn’t an idle threat; it looks great. And very far away.

 So she settles in for an evening of working hard at fantasising about being elsewhere. About being at home, curled up with a book or a movie. Or scrubbing mould from the grout between her kitchen tiles. Or unblocking the clogged drain in her bathroom. Anything.

‘So what games do you have lined up for us, Ms Filippelli?’ Andy asks, after he finishes his stirring rendition of ‘Delilah.’ He lounges back in his chair and folds his arms.

‘Games?’

‘Partay games.’

‘Oh… I was going to put on some music. I don’t think people…’ Karen looks puzzled and apologetic.

‘Worry not, mein fräulein, the Bernard parlour game repertoire is legendary throughout New England, and I may…’ He winks at the party at large. ‘…even have invented a few myself.’

‘Yeah! Great idea, man. What have you got?’ Roy sits up, claps his hands together and grins. He looks delighted, and he hates this kind of thing. And he also hates Andy. But she orders herself to be impressed… and maybe she should be? Party games are a pretty good idea. Maybe he’s figured out it’ll save him having to talk to people. People sometimes underestimate Roy.

‘Well, we usually open with Blind Man’s Bluff. It’s an excellent icebreaker, then after…’

‘Uh oh, no. New carpet. I’m so not sold on the idea of drunk people lumbering about in the dark with their drinks,’ Karen raises her eyebrows at Kelly ‘… while blindfolded. So let’s give that one a miss.’

‘I don’t think you’ve got the acreage for anything where people have to move more than the length of themselves. This place is tiny,’ Ryan says with a cynical smile. ‘Like a micro-dwelling.’

Well, that’s rude.

Karen looks like she thinks so too. Her eyes are wide as she stares at him, then she puts on a totally fake, scarily thin smile and winks. ‘Don’t you live with your mom?’

Ryan crosses his arms across his chest, tips his head to the side and stares at her. He’s not smiling any more. In fact, he’s been mostly sour-faced since he got here. What’s up with him?

There’s a loud silence until Andy clears his throat and says, ‘You make a reasonable point, Ms Filipelli. Which also unfortunately removes Murder in the Dark from consideration.’

Jim’s looking anxiously between Karen and Ryan, like he’s worried something’s going to kick off any minute.

‘Yeah. Not happening.’ Karen grins: and with that she’s flipped back to being an amiable hostess. ‘Dark room, red wine, cream carpet. Sorry to be a spoilsport, guys, but my landlord just had it fitted the day before I moved in, so… no.’

‘Then how about Hunt the Thimble? That’s less rowdy and…’ She doesn’t pick up on the rest of what he’s saying because she’s transfixed by the actual gold-plated thimble that he’s pulled out of his pants’ pocket! ‘…in a little glass case when I left for college. “Parlour games are the mark of the sophisticate. This thimble may look small, but it is your highway into Cornell society, Andrew,” she told me before she and my dad drove off. She even had it engraved.’

And he proudly shows them the proof that his mom not only thought this gold thimble would win her eighteen year old son friends at college, for god’s sakes, but had it personalized with an ornate AB and… maybe the Cornell crest? ‘I wasn’t 100 percent convinced, but Here Comes Treble found me first.’ He looks proud. ‘So the thimble stayed tucked away in my drawer, waiting for the right moment.’ He starts to sing, ‘Hello thimble, my old friend…’

She can’t help but grin. She’s never met anyone quite like Andy. He’s kind of… ridiculous? But since he arrived from Stamford, she’s filled many boring hours at work creating a colorful backstory for him and his family, and it’s basically an epic mini-series set in a land—or a country club—that time forgot. It doesn’t end happily, but they carry on regardless, making stilted conversation in silly accents, lounging around in their tattered striped blazers and loafers and bedraggled pashmina shawls and pearls that have been restrung on fishing line, while the dust settles around them and… is it possible that Scranton branch doesn’t need a full-time receptionist?

She has to hand it to him, though. While Kelly’s taken it upon herself to go off and re-inspect the apartment—and is shouting out her commentary on the way—he’s basically covering her absence. Putting on a one-man show. And he’s successfully shut down whatever that was between Ryan and Karen.

‘The little boy’s room is…?’ He gets up and follows Karen’s directions, just as Ryan goes off to look for Kelly.

Uh-oh.

This leaves just her and Roy, Jim and Karen, and a heavy silence. They are all either playing with their glasses or staring at the floor until Jim jumps to his feet. ‘I’ll go get more drinks,’ he announces with a croak. He clears his throat. ‘What does everyone want?’ He repeats everyone’s order, briefly glances her way—which is a second and a half longer than he’s looked at her in weeks—to ask if she’s sure she doesn’t want a top-up, then disappears.

‘I really like it, Karen. Great choice!’ she says, to break the awkwardness, and because it’s the polite thing to do; Karen’s obviously excited to be showing her new home to them. It looks corporate and bare to her—and Ryan’s not wrong about the size—but she knows now how it feels to get an apartment and make it your own. She’s happy for her. Sort of.

‘Oh thanks, Pam. Yeah, it’s a bit stark, but it’s smart. I love it. I really like the neighborhood too.’

‘Yeah, it’s a nice part of town. Is this your own furniture? It’s all really cool.’

‘Oh, no. I leased it furnished. My own things are all back in Stamford. A friend from college is renting my apartment. Hey, I guess I should thank you again, because of…’ She smiles and nods towards the kitchen where Jim is taking way too long to hunt for more beer in the refrigerator, ‘… Mr Personal Space Issues there. But, you know what? He actually loves it too, now I’m so near. I swear he spends more time here than his own place.’

She flinches but manages to maintain eye-contact. Next time, she’s fetching the drinks. She might just stay in the kitchen.

‘Yeah, it’s really cool, Karen. Smart. It suits you,’ Roy steps in with a cheerful smile.

‘Thanks!’ Karen replies as she moves to the other side of the room to bring over two bowls with chips and pretzels. She sits them on the side table beside him, then she picks up his beer bottle and places it back on the coaster lying next to it. ‘Just to save the…’ she starts to say, apologetically, but Roy interrupts.

‘Me and Pam looked around here for a place, but it was way too expensive.’ He drapes a heavy arm over her shoulder, pulls her in for a hug and ruffles her hair. He is wasted. It’s only 9.30.

 ‘Oh! Wow… already?!’ Karen asks. She looks thrilled. ‘That’s fantastic!’ She’s grinning now. ‘So what did you end up getting?’

'About 20 minutes south of here. It’s not bad, but…’ he starts.

No! ‘Uh… actually, that was…,’ she starts to explain, urgently, just as she Jim reappears with a tray.

‘Here you are,’ he hands another beer to Roy, puts Karen’s glass of red wine on the side table next to her, and then gives Andy his white wine.

‘Hey Jim—Pam and Roy have a place!’ Karen breaks in before she can finish. ‘Isn’t that cool?’

Jim’s head jerks up and he looks directly at her for the first time in weeks. He’s angry.

She’s angry!... Angry that he’s trying to make her feel bad about being back with Roy... Angry that she’s panicking about what he thinks.

But she has to fix it, and while  she fumbles blindly for the words, she watches him turn away abruptly. He bumps the side table…

And knocks Karen’s red wine all over the new cream carpet.

Shit!’ he says.

‘Shit,’ Karen mutters through her teeth, and marches through to the kitchen.

She gets up to help, but Jim shakes his head, staring at the table like he’s been badly let down by it. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says, waving her away. Still not looking at her. ‘I’ll see to it. I’ll just…’

There’s kerfuffle and noise while everyone offers loud advice, but sympathetic as she is about Karen’s carpet problem, the misunderstanding is what she needs to fix. ‘No! That’s not what he meant!’ she’s shouting now over the frantic chatter… and she sounds like a crazy woman. ‘No… that was the first…’

But she’s drowned out because Karen’s come back with a bowl of water and a sponge and she’s snapping instructions at Jim, and Kelly has staggered over to her hostess and she’s patting her back and yelling above the noise, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got a magic trick! Watch this!’

And while she’s still trying to figure out a way to reclaim the conversation, to make sure Jim understands, she watches as Kelly picks up Andy’s newly refilled glass of white wine. ‘Abracadabra!’ she says, and she watches her open-mouthed as she raises the glass and tosses the contents at the spill.

There’s still a big red stain on the carpet. Except it’s slightly paler but double the size. Everyone is staring at it... except Karen, who is staring at Kelly with her eyebrows raised.

‘Uh, maybe it was salt…?’ Kelly wonders aloud.

Chapter End Notes:
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