When she was alone, those harsher emotions trampled in—sadness, anger, and hatred—and the ugliest of them were aimed at Patrick “Puck” Fulton. When the detective had questioned her, it had dredged up the fear and pain of her accident. It was still haunting her. Late at night she’d hear the screeching tires and feel the pain of the impact and the devastation of losing everything she’d worked for. It drove her hatred for Puck even deeper. She hated him for so many reasons. Nearly killing Quincy and stealing two years of his recovery were at the top of that list, but it didn’t stop there. He’d killed an innocent man, stolen away the career she’d worked so hard for, and disrupted the life she and Quincy were building, and she was livid at him for making Quincy feel guilty for something he didn’t do. Thankfully, she’d learned that when the police had raided Puck’s home and car, they’d matched ballistics from one of his many guns to the bullet that had killed the driver of the car that had hit her. They’d also found Quincy’s DNA. Between that and the audio Quincy had gotten of Puck kidnapping Quincy, shooting him up with heroin with the intention of killing him, and bragging about killing the driver of the car that had hit Roni, the police had enough evidence to prosecute, and hopefully put him away for a very long time. That gave her a modicum of relief, but not enough to diminish the hateful anger that was eating her alive.

She’d never been good at harboring negative emotions, and she needed to find a way to deal with or get rid of them. She had no idea how to do that because there was no way in hell she’d forgive that monster.

The only thing she knew for sure these days was that she’d been right to believe in Quincy, and she was lucky to have so many people in her life that cared about both of them. Angela and Joey had dragged her out with them last night to spend Christmas Eve at Angela’s parents’ house. Roni hadn’t been feeling festive, and she hadn’t wanted to go, but in the end she was glad she had. Angela’s boisterous family had known her for so long, they knew just how to make her laugh, and she’d needed that. Though coming home to an empty apartment had left her sad and lonely once again.

She finished her hot chocolate and was putting her mug in the sink when a knock sounded on the balcony door. She glanced at the clock on the stove, wondering who would show up at seven o’clock Christmas morning. She crossed the room and peeked between the curtains. Angela waved from the other side of the glass. She was wearing a red Santa hat and holding a plastic container. She lifted it, doing a happy dance as Roni opened the door.

“Merry Christmas, sugarplum! It’s freezing out here,” Angela said, pushing past her. She eyed Roni with a disturbed look on her face as she set the container on the table. “What do you have going on here?” She waved a finger at Roni. “A little Britney Spears hot mess mixed with Billie Eilish style and Helena Bonham Carter hair?”