Chapter 3

• "I... God, Eleanor." A watery sob.
• She never called me Eleanor--unless things were really serious.
• Worry gripped me. "Char. Is everything okay?"
• "No." A tiny whisper. Quiet, then, "I just found out Matt was cheating on me."
• "What?!" I voiced aloud. Shooting a quick glance towards the direction of mum's shower, I dropped my voice. "What?" I hissed.
• Out of a hundred and one possibilities of Matt cheating, the odds were zero to a hundred and one. Matt didn't seem the kind to even cheat. And... he loved Charlotte. He was the calm to Char's crazy.
• They were perfect for each other.
• How would he cheat on her?
• Char continued to speak in a suffocated voice, and it was odd hearing her sound so fragile that it cancelled out doubts I didn't know I was harbouring. Matt cheated, there was no misunderstanding, he wasn't some adorable nerd to me anymore, just one big asshole.
• She sucked in a shaky breath. "...Yeah, all the trips to the auditorium to 'help out', the...the 'tutoring'. T-turns out he'd been lying. F*ck, I'm so stupid." She whispered, "I'm so stupid."
• Heart clenching, I absently raked my fingers through my hair and said on a frustrated breath, "Hell. I'm so sorry, I didn't think he would... Shit, he messed up big time." Quietly I said, "You deserve better."
• A sniffle. "He didn't even take his phone with him," she said, barely audible.
• For a moment I wondered if she was more upset he'd cheated, or that he wasn't careful enough to cover up his tracks. "You deserve better," I felt the need to say again.
• She snorted. "Heck, yeah. I know."
• Despite myself a smile pulled at my lips.
• "You know what," she began with conviction. I could feel her quickly wiping her tears. "I'm going to forget about him, find myself another man today."
• The smile fell from my lips. "Cha--"
• "We should go to a club."
• "Charlotte," I pressed, weary. "I don't think that's a good idea--"
• "Well, I say it is," she snapped suddenly. "You're not the one that got cheated on, are you?"
• She was hurt, and she was allowed to take out some of that on me. Inhaling, I nodded although she couldn't see me. "Okay..."
• At length she said quietly, "Thanks, Ellie." Moments later, the line went dead.
• Seven-thirty had me putting on a black number. Nothing too short or revealing, or else mum talked. In front of the mirror, my blue eyes stared back at me. Slipping on my pumps, I grabbed a brush and put it to my wild hair, even though it would be no use against the unruly curls. When I'd finished, dark red locks fell over my shoulders. Hair I'd gotten from my dad.
• My throat grew tight. Mum never spoke about him and I'd never met him.
• I put on a hair clip, looking at my reflection. Unlike the stereotypical redhead, I wasn't fiery or bold. I was emotional, gullible... A lump formed at the back of my throat. He'd been right all along.
• My clutch winked at me from the headboard and I drew away from my thoughts, going over to grab it before heading out of the room.
• I got to the landing and it occurred to me mum hadn't turned on the television again, maybe she'd fallen asleep in her room. I guess I could be thankful for that.
• Apparently I had thought too soon.
• Right before my fingers grazed the doorknob, I heard the soles of her feet turn into the top of the stairs. Although her voice was quiet, I didn't mistake the note of steel. "Where are you going?"
• I felt my heart race. My back still to her, I said, "Out." Ridiculous, my mind whispered. I knew I couldn't turn around because I didn't want her seeing the fear on my face, seeing how much I'd let her frighten me. It wasn't because I thought it would hurt her, but because it somehow finalized things.
• The strangeness of our dynamic.
• We'd once been mother and daughter, but now it leaned closer to captor and prisoner; the house the prison.
• She repeated in her steady voice, "I asked you a question, Lenore."
• Only her ever called me Lenore. The name had once been spoken with so much warmth, now it was cold coming from her lips. "And--" I cleared my throat when my voice came out shaky. "And I answered."
• A male voice started out as a whisper at the back of my mind, growing stronger until it filled every pore of my being: sensitive, gullible. Weak. I shut my eyes tight.
• "Head upstairs and change. Now."
• Fear slowly gave way to a trickle of anger. Blood rushed to my ears and I felt my heart accelerate at what came out of my mouth next.
• "No."
• She paused, then started down the stairs, the floorboards creaking into the silence.
• "Lenore. Go to your room and change, right now." Then to my surprise she added, "You shouldn't be about at this time of the day."
• My shock prompted me to blurt, "It's just eight."
• "Don't disobey me. You know what happened the last time you did."
• The air stilled.
• I turned around. She stood a few feet away from me, holding her slight weight against the banister. Dressed in her white nightgown, she looked as pale as a ghost and just as fragile. But that couldn't be farther from the truth.
• She was going to bring that up? Over an issue as little and trivial as this. Was that what she thought of the things I'd faced over the years? Trivial? "No." My voice was bitter, tinged with sarcasm. "I don't."
• She hitched a brow, then with a relish that had the back of my throat knotting up, she said, "You don't? Well, let me remind you. Among other things you got yourself pregnant." She took a step down. "Shameful. You must have been glad it came out dead."
• My eyes stung. Afraid I would do something stupid like cry, I spun around and gripped the handle, forcing the door open.
• Before I shut the door behind me, I heard her say, "The Board has imposed a curfew by ten. Be back before then."
• The buildings in our quiet neighbourhood stretched out before me, the front porches lit by a single fluorescent lightbulb. Dogs barked at a distance and the sound of an engine revving off cut through the silence.
• Going down the front steps, I felt a wetness on my face and realized I was crying.
• Mum didn't know half of what happened four years ago. Only what it made me.
• Memories, raw and fresh, burned through my mind at dizzying speed. A dark room. A small gathering. Blood, so much blood. Innocent blood. On my hands. On my yellow sundress. On his chest.
• And on her rounded belly.
• The last recollections clamoured around my head, leaving familiar chills in its wake. Enraged gazes shooting towards me. Strange men springing up to their feet and advancing on me. Me: Running, stumbling, getting into my car and driving away with a single thought in my mind: What have I done?
• I could run, but I knew... I knew I could never hide.
• Robert was on the look out for me.