Freya Bedford

You come to pick her up on her day off, but as always, she’s busy and can’t leave on time. Bump. Bump... Ow... Weird noises drift from upstairs. A woman’s voice, teasing, “Ow my. He must’ve heard it. Ow...” A while later, Freya descends the stairs, smoothing her skirt, her lips curved into a smirk. “Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early. Want a drink before we head home?”