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UPON WAKING, EVA'S FIRST thought was, Coffee. The first image that flashed behind her eyes was Fiona's smile, as the steam rose from the mug that she offered her.
After a moment of tired confusion, the girl realized that she was sprawled across the living room couch. The aching of her neck was hardly anything compared to the pain behind her eyes, her chest.
The previous night's events rushed back to her in an instant. Eva caught her breath to refrain from gasping.
Carl had been with her. He'd witnessed one of her breakdowns—and she would never be able to look him in the eye again.
Eva would have gone back to sleep, out of pure embarrassment, but the truth was that she was an addict—for coffee. And so she pulled herself to her feet, pulling her hair into a bun as she hastened to the kitchen.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen, she froze. Contrary to her previous belief, the coffee-maker was not Fiona. To Eva's horror, there Carl stood, pouring the black liquid into two mugs, back turned.
Backtracking quickly ceased to be an option; Carl's soft voice spoke: "Good morning."
Eva swallowed deeply. "Morning."
"Feeling all right?"
She paused—the genuine concern in his voice was fairly unfamiliar. "Bit of a headache," Eva finally admitted. "Um...I'll go get something for that."
She gave Carl no chance to respond; Eva quickly turned and ascended the living room staircase. Debbie's bedroom was unlocked, and the red-head and her daughter were both soundly asleep.
After quickly gathering a fresh set of clothes, Eva hurried to the bathroom. The shower was running; billowing steam crashed into the ceiling above the shower curtain and fogged the mirror.
Eva closed the bathroom door behind her. "Fiona?"
There was a moment of silence—and then an old man's head peeked out from the shower curtain. Eva nearly tripped backward in her surprise.
"You called?" He laughed, but all Eva could do was stare in horror. "Who the hell are you?" His tone was not unkind; in fact, he seemed amused by the girl's expression.
"Um...Eva."
"Good to meet you, Eva. Frank Gallagher." He stuck his hand past the curtain, slinging water. "Man of the house."
