Amelia moved away from her, taking the bottle and the empty glass with her two hands. She believed Eida already had more than enough. She needed to stop.
She stepped into her kitchen, finding the things she would need. Hopefully, the things she heard about sobering up a drunk truly work because if not, she would be dragging a drunk reporter across town, trying to find the hospital where they were keeping the prince.
But she stayed tuned on the newsfeeds, hoping to get some news about him. Something might pop out from it. She needed every information she could find about his location and condition.
She did not want to call the Count and especially not her dad. She still did not want to have anything to do with them. But she believed they might be aware by now.
"Where is your coffee, Eida?" She had been rummaging through her cabinets but still had not found one. How did her friend live this long in this kitchen, finding everything out of order?
