She Begged My Ghost To Stay

On our third wedding anniversary, I spent five hours kneeling on the cold floor of the VIP lounge.

Olivia didn't make an appearance until midnight, her arm casually looped through Brody’s—her childhood sweetheart, the boy she had spent her entire life protecting.

With a wave of her hand, her entourage lined up thirty shot glasses of overproof whiskey on the low table in front of me.

"Drink up, Jesse," she said, her voice cool and detached. "Every glass you down buys your lunatic sister another day of care at the facility."