Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

by Lucy Score

“As your father liked to say, ‘We can’t drink all day if we don’t start now.’”

The half-feral fleabag had been given the regal name Lady Mildred Meowington. Over time, it had been shortened to Milly Meow Meow. Nowadays, when I had to yell at her for the eighteenth time not to claw the back of the couch, it was just Meow Meow or Hey, Asshole.

“Who wants breakfast wine?” “You know what they say,” Mom said, tugging my sister to her feet. “Chardonnay is the most important meal of the day.”

I wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and go to bed with a book.

It was a work of art. The thick-handled mug was topped with a veritable tower of whipped cream. Mini marshmallows dotted the white swirl, and Bean had topped the entire thing off with a generous dusting of pink, glittery sprinkles.

“There are some things we never get over. Some things we hide from the light,”