Doors

[Post-it note left on Preston R's computer monitor]
[Despite the fact that there's a full bottle.] Out of creamer. - M

Martial Arts Super Show, right here in Las Vegas? Yes, please.

Anyone want to come with me? It's on July 1st. I'll be participating some how, will probably be practicing a bit, too.

[The private courier finds Sam wherever she is, at the shop or at her home. The package is a small box, wrapped in plain brown paper, and it is addressed simply to “Samantha Alexander” with no address to speak of, or a return address to indicate the sender. Beneath the brown paper is an elegantly wrapped box, the paper thick and expensive, tied off with a ribbon to match. Inside, the contents are much darker. Copies of her admittance forms to the psych ward, court-ordered therapy documents, references to the suicide attempt. Two capped needles with a familiar substance rest on the soft cotton underneath. And tucked in with it all is a computer-printed note:

Before you start judging people about their ‘bad’ decisions and actions, perhaps you ought to take a look at your own history. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.