Chapter 33

Marie’s POV

"Absolutely not," I say, standing in the doorway of a strip mall unit with a sign that just says SMASH in aggressive red letters. "What is this?"

"It's a rage room. You put on a suit, they give you a bat, and you break things. Very therapeutic, allegedly." Roxie's already signing a waiver at the counter. "You look like you need it."

"I look fine."

"Babe, you look like you haven’t unclenched your jaw since 2010." She slides the clipboard toward me. "Sign here. Trust me."

I do. Roxie’s already eyeing a stack of dinner plates like she's got a personal vendetta against dishware.

A guy in a hard hat and safety goggles hands us each a crowbar and a bat, then walks us through the rules in a bored monotone he's clearly recited a thousand times. No hitting the walls. No taking off the goggles. No bringing your own items from home — apparently people