A tap on her shoulder jolts her from her thoughts, the smile of Rex coming into view as she turns around. She locks her laptop, taking a break from writing like she said she would when she agreed to them stopping her every couple hours for water and food. But it had only been a few一

“A few minutes? Yeah, no. Your brain doesn’t know what the difference between a few minutes or a few hours is when you’re writing. It’s almost five in the evening, hun. Time for dinner.”

Her eyebrows raise and she looks down to check the clock, just in case. In fact, it’s now a little past five now. How does that happen? She sat down a few minutes ago to write and it was ten in the morning.

“Yes, well, I’m sure the alcohol and the anxiety medication doesn’t help your situation. But your brain just isn’t wired the same. That’s why you have me, dear. I’m here to keep you on track.”

But what happened to the break two hours in for some sunshine? The break halfway through for a walk through the city? Not that she’s particularly complaining 一 she got fifty pages written, today alone. That might be a new record. But Rex was supposed to be helping keep her 一

“Healthy? Oh dear. We’re way past that stage. At this point, I’m here to keep you alive until you finish this book. After that you can get back to being healthy.”

Alive is a long way from healthy, but she’s only 一 well, she’s not too far off from finishing her project, right? She could do this. Others do it all the time and they’re just fine. They finish their books and then everything clears up 一

“Yeah, I’m not so sure you’ll do it, hun. You’re a mess. But hey. At least your family will live well off the posthumous sales, right? Everyone knows the dead get paid better than the living anyway.”