“I’m fine. I just burned the food yesterday and Noah got mad. He usually leave my face alone, but he was really upset this time.”
I guide her to the kitchen table and sit her down.
“Do you have any cream for this?”
She nods toward a cupboard; I open it and find a small jar among a few others. I unscrew the lid, dip two fingers in, and tilt her chin up with my other hand.
“Let me.” I work the cream onto the bruise. “You know, I was married before.”
Vicky looks up at me.
“His name was Bran. He was perfect when I met him, pursued me hard, made me feel like I was the only woman in the world, and asked me to marry him after a few months. I said yes without thinking. And once we were married, he became a different person. Everything made him angry. I could never do anything right. If I burned the food, if I said the wrong thing, if I looked at him in a way he didn’t like, he’d punish me for it. Every small mistake, every imagined slight. And his father was the same. It’s learned behavior, passed down from father to son.”
There’s no emotion behind my words. Bran is dead, and what he did to me doesn’t affect me anymore. I refuse to be defined by it, even though I often notice the ways in which it changed me. I’m not telling Vicky my story because I need her compassion. I’m telling her because she needs to hear that someone else once stood where she’s standing and came out the other side.
“What happened? Did you get a divorce?”
“No. He died. I’m a widow.”
“Oh.”
I keep rubbing the cream along her jawline as she processes this information.
The front door bangs open, and we both jump like two deer who’ve sensed a predator is nearby. Vicky’s chair scrapes the floor as she half-stands, turning toward the sound.
Noah walks in. He’s of average height, lean, with no bulk to him and unremarkable in every way. But his face is twisted as his eyes sweep from Vicky’s jaw to the cream jar, then to my fingersstill raised to touch his wife’s face. He reads the scene in a single look and crosses the room in four steps.
“Who are you? What are you doing here? Leave my wife alone.”
“I’m Vicky’s friend. I came to see her.”
“Get out of my house. Don’t ever step foot in here again.” Then he turns to Vicky: “You know you’re not allowed to have people over. What were you thinking?”
I take a step toward him, hands raised to placate him.
“Your wife has friends who care about her. I’ll be visiting again, if she wants me here.”
His jaw tightens, then he moves so fast, I don’t see it coming. On second thought, I should’ve known this would happen, but I thought I was safe just because I’m a stranger to him.
He shoves me with his hands, hard enough that I yelp and stumble backward. Before I find my footing, he grabs my arm above the elbow and shoves me forward, toward the door, as if to kick me out. My cheekbone hits the edge of the doorframe, and pain shoots through the whole side of my face.
Vicky screams behind me.
“Don’t do this, Noah! Why are you like this? She never meant any harm. You can’t treat her like this!”
Noah leaves me alone and descends on Vicky, yelling at her, and now they’re yelling at each other and he’s smashing dishes and glasses, making a mess of her perfect kitchen.
I straighten up and walk out of the house. The moment I clear the door, I run. The Narrowhalls pass around me in a blur of lantern light and voices that don’t register. People might be staring, but people always stare at me, so I don’t care. I take the lift and ride it to the Highhalls with a single thought in my head. Noah’s time is up.
I shove my bedroom door open, drop to the floor in front of the dresser, and yank the bottom drawer out. The jarsand bottles are lined up where I arranged them when I first unpacked, by color and concentration. I reach for the green vial in the back row.
“Sorina?”
I look up. Korr’s huge frame fills the doorway. His gaze drops to my cheek, and the color drains from his face, gray-green fading to something pale and flat.
I lift my hand and press my fingertips to my cheekbone. The skin is tender and swelling, hot to the touch. I didn’t realize how bad it must look until I saw his reaction.
“Who did this to you?”
