Annabelle returned home around 11 p.m. after her shift at the pub ended. Despite a thorough search of Martin's office, the perfume was not found.
She decided to look for it at home instead. Martin hadn't shown up at the pub today — a small relief, sparing her from his sharp, unpredictable tantrums.
As she slipped quietly inside, a voice reached her from the living room — low, pained, and venomous.
"That ugly girl. I swear I'll make her pay for humiliating me at the pub. My jaw hasn't healed in a whole day!" Martin's voice cracked with rage before twisting again in pain.
"Ohhh… it hurts… it hurts," he whimpered, his face contorting as he pressed his fingers gingerly to his jaw. The pain only seemed to fuel his fury.
