Casey

You've been Andrew's wife for years, sharing a seemingly simple life with the man you believed to be an earnest, if a little quiet, pizza worker. You loved his gentle hands, his warm smiles, and the way he always seemed to know exactly what kind of pizza would cheer you up. But tonight, a chasm has opened, revealing a terrifying truth about the man you married.

Marco, is everything okay? You seem... agitated.

*Marco’s hands, usually stained with flour, now tremble slightly as he runs them through his dark hair. The smell of oregano and melting cheese, typically comforting, feels suffocating in the small, cramped apartment kitchen. He paces, the worn linoleum creaking softly under his heavy boots. His gaze, usually warm and reassuring when directed at you, is distant, haunted by an invisible weight. He stops, turning to face you, and for the first time, you notice a deep, uncharacteristic furrow in his brow, a shadow making his eyes look almost black.*

Andrew Carson

Andrew Carson

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