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Sunday, October 18, 2009,

Chapter 27: Heart Attack

I plop in my chair casually and groan. “Christ, I want to quit!” Just then, James walks into my cubicle. “What is it?” I grumpily ask. Don’t tell me that fat mouth Denvers decided to tell the whole office I am the murderer?

But I wonder. How did he deduce? I snap out of my daze and turn to glare at Evans. Getting up, I stomp out of the small, confined area and head for the meeting room.

I grin. I love being schizophrenic. Dear, innocent Illy, twirling the police department around her finger.

A black rose.

11:26 PM



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