Despite herself, Heather nodded in recognition. She remembered that feeling.
“But sometimes,” Melissa went on, “when we’re apart, he’ll text them to me, too.” She glanced at Carly, and Heather saw a kind of understanding pass between them. Then Carly met Heather’s eyes, grim satisfaction on her face, and after a moment Heather understood, too.
“She has the texts,” Carly said. “And I have my broken intercom. And you have...” She paused for a second, then sighed. “You have whatever stories you want to tell about Jack.”
“I have a voicemail,” Heather said quietly. “From last week. When the video was everywhere.”
Fucking slut. I knew you’d fuck your way to the top.
Disgust flickered over Carly’s face, chased by relief. “He’s fucking abusive, Heather. And as of a few nights ago, physically violent. Mr. K can fire one woman in a he-said-she-said situation. But three of us? He said, she said, she said, she said?”
Heather looked at Melissa, whose face was pinched and pale.
“I really do want to do the right thing,” Melissa said. “It’s not okay to treat women like this, and if we don’t warn people, he’s just going to keep doing it, right?” She didn’t sound totally convinced, and her eyes darted to Carly as if she was looking for confirmation.
Carly inhaled to speak, but Heather cut in.
“Has he ever hit you?” The question hung heavily in the still, warm air, and the apartment was suddenly so silent Heather could hear the fridge humming.
“No,” Melissa said softly but firmly, and Heather felt relief swoop through her chest. “But that’s not the only way to hurt and control someone,” Melissa went on, sounding like she was relaying information she’d only recently learned. “Just because abuse doesn’t leave a physical mark doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
“That’s true,” Heather agreed.
She thought of all the times Jack had cut her down in public, all his cruel drunken remarks and swift sober apologies. How many times had he made her feel less-than or complimented her only to pull his praise away when she got too comfortable? How many times had he let his friends and his mother insult her, sitting in silence and agreeing to their cruelty? The idea that he’d done that to Melissa—and much worse, it sounded like—made the back of her neck tingle with shame.If we don’t warn people, he’s just going to keep doing it.Should she have warned Melissa, all those months ago?
“What’s your plan?” Heather asked the others. “Show the texts to Mr. K and show him who Jack really is?”
Carly gave a humorless laugh. “He knows who Jack is, he just doesn’t care. But he might care if other people find out. That might be enough to save my job. Right?” She glanced at each of them. Melissa’s nod was a little less certain than Heather’s, but Carly looked relieved they’d both agreed.
“Okay then,” Carly said, businesslike now. “I think it’s time to set up a meeting with Mr. K.”
Heather nodded. “I can call his assistant and ask to see him. Melissa, does Jack know you’re here?”
“No, I told him I was meeting a friend for breakfast. But I should get home soon.”
As Melissa finally took a sip of her water, Heather realized what she meant by “home.” Jack’s place on West Seventy-Fourth, the apartment that until a few months ago had beenherhome. Before Sydney, the realization might have made her feel sorrow or longing, but now it just made her worry for Melissa. Would she have a place to stay after she left Jack? Did she have a Carly of her own, to take her in and feed her dumplings?
Heather gestured at the coffee table, where her phone was charging. “Put your number in, and I’ll text you when I know what time Mr. K can meet us.”
“And make sure you take screenshots of those texts,” Carly added.
“I already did,” Melissa replied, sounding relieved and a little bolder now. “And I backed them up in two different places.”
While Melissa busied herself with the phone, Carly threw Heather a knowing look, and Heather knew exactly what she was thinking. If she hadn’t been so busy trying to forget Jack, she might have discovered how much she had in common with his new girlfriend.
Five minutes later, Carly walked Melissa out, then bolted the door with a sigh. Heather, realizing she was still pressed against the wall, walked to the coffee table and reached for the bagels and iced coffee.
Carly flopped onto the couch and took a grateful gulp of coffee, then slid over and made room for Heather. For a few moments, they sipped in silence. Heather had never been more grateful for the cold rush of coffee hitting her tongue. She swirled it in her mouth and swallowed slowly, letting her head loll back against the couch.
“How did you know?” Heather asked a while later. Carly’s cup was almost empty.
“Unlucky guess.”
“I’m serious.” She sat up and looked into her friend’s wan, freckled face. “How did you know there was something bad going on with her?”
Carly sighed. “Because she started showing up to class with the same look on her face that you used to get. Like she was getting the life crushed out of her so slowly that she barely noticed it happening. And I know I swore to hate her on your behalf, and fuck him forever and everything, but I just...couldn’t watch it happen again.”
Heather felt hot tears well in her eyes. “How did I let it happen to me? How did I lethimhappen to me?”
