She stood up from her chair and walked to where she had left her bag the night before, picking it up with quick, efficient movements.
"I'm going to go," she announced, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
The finality in her voice made Eric's stomach clench with sudden anxiety.
Something was very wrong, but his alcohol-clouded memories from the previous night were frustratingly blank.
"Hailey," he called as she headed toward the door.
She stopped walking but didn't turn around, her back stiff with tension.
Her hand was on the door handle, and Eric could see the slight trembling in her shoulders.
"Are you going to be home late tonight?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral despite the growing worry in his chest.
Still not looking at him, Hailey's grip tightened on the door handle.
"I'm not sure yet," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
