He nods, his face pale. “I know.”
“I keep replaying it in my head,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Every detail, every second. The gun against my head, the guy’s breath on my neck, the way he grabbed my mother’s necklace...” I pause, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. The loss of the necklace is like a physical ache, a piece of me torn away. “And you...”
Arlo flinches as if I’ve struck him. “Cora, I?—”
“You ran away, Arlo.” Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. The words pour out of me, all the fear and anger and confusion of the past few days. “You just...left me there.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Arlo’s face crumples, his eyes filling with tears.
I’m furious. All the fear and helplessness I’ve been feeling since that night crystallizes into a white-hot rage.
“That’s it?” I demand, my voice rising. “You have nothing to say?”
Arlo looks up, startled by my tone. “What do you want me to say? When he pulled out that gun… I’ve never been so scared inmy life. It was like... Like my body just took over. Fight or flight, you know? And I flew.”
“I could have died!” The words explode out of me, and I realize I’m on my feet, though I don’t remember standing. “Do you understand that? He could have killed me, and you ran away!”
Arlo stands too, reaching for me, but I step back. The coffee table between us feels like an unbridgeable chasm. “Cora, please,” he begs. “I came back. I called the ambulance. I came back.”
“I need time,” I say. “I can’t... I can’t make any decisions right now. I need to process everything that’s happened.”
“I know I messed up. But you’re okay now. Can’t we move past it?”
I shake my head. “Not today.”
Two
CORA
“Hey, gorgeous,” Jill greets me with a warm smile. Her dark hair is tied in a high ponytail atop her head, and she’s dressed in a tight dress that accentuates her curves. She looks as if she just stepped out of a high-end spa, her skin glowing and makeup flawless.
Bailey, on the other hand, is a stark contrast. She’s dressed in what appears to be pajamas. An oversized t-shirt with a faded cartoon character and loose flannel pants. Her face is bare of makeup, and her long hair is scattered on her shoulders, looking like she just rolled out of bed.
“You look awful,” Bailey says as she plops down on the couch, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
Then, as if on cue, she spots the sushi platter.
“Ooh, sushi.” Without hesitation, she grabs a piece and shoves it in her mouth, speaking around it. “Did you order this for us? You’re a saint.”
“Bails, come on,” Jill reprimands her, shooting her a disapproving look. “She just got out of the hospital. How do you expect her to look? Besides, it’s not like you’re runway-ready yourself right now.”
Bailey shrugs, swallowing her mouthful. “True, but I always dress like this. Cora doesn’t,” she says, gesturing toward me with a half-eaten piece of sushi. “Not that I expected otherwise, but am I allowed to tell the truth, or are we doing that thing where we pretend everything’s fine?” She pauses, then adds with exaggerated sweetness, “Cora, darling, you look amazing. You could totally rock that ‘just survived a mugging’ look at a wedding.”
I smile at Bailey’s brutal honesty. It’s one of the reasons I love her, even if it can be a bit much sometimes. “It’s okay, Jill. I’m used to it by now. Besides, Bails, did I pull you out of bed or something?”
“Yeah, Jill,” Bailey chimes in, reaching for another piece of sushi. “Cora knows I say whatever comes into my head. I can’t help myself. This is me, filter-free edition. Take it or leave it.” She takes a big bite, talking while chewing. “Why bother dressing up for an evening with friends? I like being comfortable. Life’s too short for uncomfortable clothes.”
A loud knock echoes through the room.
She pauses mid-chew, her head tilting. “Someone’s knocking at the door.”
“Yeah, I heard,” I say, getting up from my seat. I open the door to find Riley standing there, a bottle of wine in one hand and a sympathetic smile on her face.
“I come bearing liquid therapy and a shoulder to cry on,” Riley announces, holding up the wine bottle. “Though it looks like Bailey’s already started the therapy session with sushi.”
I pull her into a hug. “Thanks for coming, Rile, but you didn’t have to cancel your plans. I’m fine, really.”
Riley hugs me back. “You know our motto, babes before... Well, everything else. And besides,” she says, peeking over my shoulder at Jill and Bailey, who’s still devouring sushi, “there’s sushi here. I can’t say no to sushi.”
