“What they found in my room. It wasn’t bleach.”
Sidney raised her eyebrows. “What was it?”
“Alkyl dimethyl benzyl ammonium chloride,” Grace said.
“What’s that?” Sidney asked.
Grace leaned forward so her elbows rested on the table. “The active ingredient in Clorox wipes.”
The Girl of Sugar Beach
“The Razor Blade” Part of Episode 4
*Based on the interview with Grace Sebold
“Damn it!”
“What’s the matter?” Grace asked.
She lay within a mess of white sheets in the king-sized four-poster bed that dominated the Sugar Beach cottage.
“I cut myself,” Julian said from the bathroom.
“Why are you shaving? We’re on vacation.”
“Um, this is a problem. I’m bleeding like a sieve.”
Grace untangled herself from the covers and climbed out of bed. The morning sun shone off the mahogany floor, promising a beautiful day of sunbathing.
“Let me see,” she said as she walked into the bathroom. “Wow. What the hell did you do?”
Droplets of red blood freckled the white countertop and sink. Another impressive collection had formed on the tile floor. Red stained tissues were piled near the trash can.
“It’s all the goddamn rum,” Julian said. “My prothrombin time is probably five minutes.”
“And you’ve been taking ibuprofen for your back. Your platelets are worthless.” Grace looked at Julian in the mirror. They both started laughing.
“We’re such nerds,” he said.
“Here.” Grace grabbed a washcloth from the wall and pressed it to Julian’s chin. She kissed his lips. “Now go elevate it, or something.”
“It’s my chin. How am I supposed to elevate it?”
She looked at him with a snarky expression. “Just get out of the bathroom so I can clean this up. It’s like a massacre in here.”
Julian walked through the main room and opened the patio doors. He kept the washcloth pressed to his chin as he sat in the warm sun and stared at the Pitons. In the bathroom, Grace opened the cabinet under the sink and found a container of Clorox wipes. She pulled several from the dispenser and began cleaning the blood.
“It’s like a slaughter,” Grace said as she balanced on the paddleboard.
She dug the long oar into the water on the right side, and then lifted it across the board to do the same on the left.
Julian sat in front of her, his legs straight and his heels hanging off the end of the board. “It’s not going to clot. The alcohol and Advil will make it drip all day.”
His chin was still oozing, and the bandage he’d received from the nurses’ station was beyond saturated, now nothing but a red piece of adhesive on his chin.
“Getting your heart racing is not going to help any,” Grace said. “But I can’t get us back. The current is too strong.”
“Are you serious? I’m weak from blood loss.”
