So you’re both team Efren?
Thalia
I’m team mind my business.
Mireya
Alma this isn’t Twilight, there is no team Jacob or Edward in this.
The fuck there isn’t. Efren is ruining my fucking life. Every day I get off work from the hotel, and he’s sitting there. On the couch.Shirtless.Reading some bullshit non-fiction book. Gross. Only sociopaths read non-fiction so they can try to mimic normal human behavior.
I usually give him a good fuck you glare before I head tomy room on the other end of the penthouse. But not before I also send the same fuck you glare to Don Cheetos snuggled up next to him.
Frustrated with my friends, Ithrow my phone onto the vanity and rip off the bright pink wig.La Cuevitais back up and running, but the night was much slower than we’d anticipated. Customers are still spooked from the crime scene and Curtis’s death. Another big thanks to Efren.
“Hey,” Claudi says from the doorway.
“Hey.”
“That friend came through.” He drops a thin folder onto my vanity.
“Oh my god!” I bring the folder to my chest, holding it to my heart. “I’d hug you, but I know how you feel about glitter.”
“Ya keep that shit away from me.” He laughs. “Night, Kid.”
As soon as he turns away, I open the folder to find one single page. I skim it once. Then again, slower.
Patient: Melissa Gutierrez
Admission: August 1999
Full-term stillbirth.
Nursing notes indicate the patient exhibited emotional detachment, confusion, and fixation on newborns in the maternity ward.
Patient repeatedly insisted her baby was alive and “in the nursery.”
Psychiatry consult ordered.
Patient left Against Medical Advice prior to evaluation.
“Her baby died,”I say aloud. I take in the heartbreak I can only imagine Missy felt.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I quickly pull on sweatpants. I need answers. The faded pink note is still there, and I punch in the address to Curtis Anderson’s house. The entire drive, I try to wrap my head around the medical notes.
The wordstillbirthsits there uncomfortably. Missy had never told me about this. For a brief moment, I question everything in my life up to this point. What exactly did I hope to gain at the end of this?
Peace.
I was hoping to find peace.
As easy as it would be to just accept that Missy loved me and gave me the best, I would always wonder. I’d always look in the mirror and wonder who I am and where I came from.
I push back the tears forming in the back of my eyes and focus on the narrow path leading to the private property. My headlights are the only light in the darkness. Slowing down, I take my time following the GPS until I reach a large metal gate.
Against my better judgment, I step out of the car and look to where the silhouette of a house sits another mile from the gate. Not a single light on. Curtis had told me he lived alone, and a Google search confirmed he’d not only lived at this address, but he’d been divorced for nearly ten years.
Wrapping my fingers around the bars, I shake them as hard as I can. The gate doesn’t budge.
