Della Vane
A short story inspired by Abbey Wade
Mina didn’t knock. She came in like Kramer from Seinfeld.
“Two,” Mina said.
Della Vane held her hair up with one hand and stared into the front camera on her phone. The red lipstick was fresh. Sexy. Her white knit top was soft and bright, a clean lie. Three necklaces stacked at her throat and dropped down her chest. An inv…
