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I got up at seven, still bleary eyed from the night before. I drank the whisky like a tonic, unready and unable to cope with work. My make up had smudged adn I was too drunk to demask. I picked at the gloop from my eyelashes and flicked it off in my fingers in contempt. I opened the fridge and poured out the week old milk, watching as it drizzled through through the plughole.

As he lay there I watched the blood flow. I stood and did nothing. In a split second I made my choice. I needed my job too much to make the frantic call. I walked to work that evening, tentatively looking over my shoulder. Putting on the gold lame corset, I feared Tony's gaze, sure that he had saw. I danced the routines but my legs felt heavy and my senses deadened. Vegas strips you of your soul, and it's not only the gamblers that lose big. The house always wins, a mantra applicable to all- except Tony who was the house.

I felt my tummey, the corset was getting tighter as it grew inside me. I knew I should go the drug store but for now I cocooned myself in ignorance, and I danced.