Her reply comes back quick.
Val:
It’s cool. No worries.
Take your time. Hope it was a good hot shower.
Me:
Thanks. Hot showers all the way.
She hearts my last message, and with that, I set my bags in my walk-in closet. My dress pools at my feet and my fingers brush over the raised lines on my thighs—some faded, some fresh. The newer ones are still tender.
Some days, the memories choke me, curling around my throat like invisible hands. And on those days, when I hate myself just a little more than usual, I find relief in the only way I know how.
I don’t remember gettingout of the shower. Or wrapping a towel around myself.
But I’m here, sitting at my vanity, a brush in my hand, swiping bronzer over my cheekbones. My reflection watches me, distant. I don’t recognize myself.
The girl in the mirror has my face, my features, but something is off. Her eyes are too hollow. Too haunted. She looks like a stranger. My hand trembles, the brush slipping from my fingers. It clatters against the vanity, rolling onto the floor. I press my palms onto the glass and lean in, my breath fogging up the mirror.
Come back. Come back.
A knock at the door makes me jolt.
“Mara?” Ma’s voice is soft. She has no idea I just drowned in my past.
I swallow, reaching for a pink lipstick. Mask back on.
“Yeah,” I call out, voice steadier than I feel. “I’ll be down in a sec.”
I press my lips together, making sure the lipstick blends well, before I stand and run my hands through my hair.
Ma is downstairs by the door waiting for me, a basket of food on her hip. She smiles at me, soft and bright.
“Ready?” she asks.
I nod, looping my arm through hers. “Yes, let’s go. I’m already late enough.”
She opens her mouth as if to say something before she closes it and shakes her head.
We take the limo to Val and Eli’s place. The ride doesn’t take long, but I can see our driver, Sam, looking in the rearview mirror a couple of times as if he’s nervous.
And for a second, that same exact feeling I had when I was at the mall is back. Goosebumps on my arms, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I look out the back window to see if there’s something there, but I can’t make out anything because New York is filled with cars.
I brush it off. I know I’m just being paranoid, but I can’t help but surrender to the terror that rips out from the memories of being under Helen’s control.
By the time we reach the underground garage of Eli’s complex, I’ve completely forgotten about the entire thing. My thumb brushes the call button on the private elevator for the penthouse.
Valentina’s voice crackles through the tiny speaker. “I’ll let you up, Mara.”
Ma and I step inside the elevator, our guards stay downstairs, manning the doors.
The doors slide open into Eli and Val’s open living room, complete with the ceiling-to-floor window, showing me a view of New York City at sunset. Ma steps out of the elevator first, hugging Valentina. I follow her, my fingers toying with the hem of my dress.
“Hey. Thanks for watching Bianca for us. You know you didn’t have to,” Val says, giving me a kiss on the cheek, her hands wrapped delicately around my shoulders.
“You know I wanted to. Besides, who can say no to little Bee?”
