Chapter 29 Warning In Inks

• Hours later, the front door creaked open again, and I heard the staggered shuffle of Theo’s footsteps before I even saw him.
• He stumbled into the house, the smell of alcohol heavy and sharp, clinging to him like a second skin. His suit was wrinkled, his tie loose, and his movements slow, careless.
• I froze, my hands tightening around the edge of the counter. “Theo…” I said, my voice tight, trembling with anger. “What are you doing? Is this what you want to show our five-year-old daughter? That her daddy comes home drunk, slurring, pretending like nothing matters?”