I hadn’t slept much in the week that had passed since I last saw Harper, and the Ambien was a last ditch attempt to get a bit of shut eye. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I mumbled, fumbling my way through the early morning darkness of my apartment until I reached the door. I pulled it open, only to be faced with Harper herself. Her blonde hair was piled high on the top of her head and large, black sunglasses covered her eyes. Her lips were pinched and pursed and her hands rested on her hips. “So you are alive.” I widened the door and let her pass on through. “Sorry, I’ve been, uh…” She glanced around the messy shit hole my apartment had become. An empty pizza box and half-empty beer bottles lined my coffee table. Dirty laundry sat piled in a recliner, and the place hadn’t been vacuumed in days. I would’ve been embarrassed, but I was still half asleep. “You’ve been avoiding me,”
