Conspiracy Theories

Another day, another stupid fucking event.

Of everything I’ve ever had to endure, nothing tested my self-control more than watching Caleb move around like the perfect doting fiancé to Piper.

A Bluetooth speaker played a mix of Motown and old rock hits—Marvin Gaye melting into The Rolling Stones then into ABBA before swerving to Tina Turner. Everyone was grooving.

Ever so often, Aunt Helen would