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If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. If I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain, or help one fainting robin unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain. EMILY DICKSON
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IRIS ROBERTS'S POV
"I don't forgive you, Anika. You made me look like shit.... And I'm not being vulgar, it's the simple truth"
I put the fleece blanket on the couch, which I used last night because my feet were so bruised that my desire to walk to the bedroom was zero, while I have the phone tucked between my shoulder and my left ear, I wish I had never answered that call. Anika, on the other end of the phone, is worse off than me, slurring her words and I can't help but laugh slightly. I easily compose myself, I am still furious with her.
"I can't come anyway. Besides the fact that my confidence is tested, I have to work, I have a shift tonight," I say, but this time I am serious, adjusting my white blouse tucked inside a blue skirt. I hate this fucking uniform, I feel like a puppet, yet my boss was determined to make us look good in that state.
With my legs sticking out.
I grit my teeth because of the cold.
I hold the phone with difficulty as I tie my shoes, like a habit I bite my lip in concentration. Then I hear the doorbell ring. I snort, knowing full well I'm not expecting anyone, panic rising to my brain. Still with Anika within earshot, I approach the door and open it without even looking through the peephole, believing it was just my neighbour.
Jesus.
I blink and close the door abruptly, the doorbell rings and I open it again.
I don't believe it.
My mouth drops to the floor.
Spencer Reid is right outside my door. Right in front of me. It's not a mirage. And the hangover is long gone.
