Page 52 of Not Her Day to Die

I let them soak my bruised muscles. Let them scrub my sticky skin.

Let them reach inside to clean Darius out of me.

When they are done, Carrie helps me out of the bath.

She wraps me in a towel, hugging me to her.

“Not you too,” her voice breaks.

She releases me, handing me silk pajamas.

“Get dressed. They’ll give you a few hours to gather up the next bidders.” She turns to the older woman as I follow her instructions. Once I have the clothes in place, Carrie speaks again. “Henrietta, what can we do? She’s so young, so innocent.”

Henrietta’s lips flatten. And my attention focuses on her. She’s familiar, but not in a way that I know her. In a way that she reminds me of someone else. Her soft chocolate eyes darken in unease. “We can barely help ourselves.”

Carrie sniffles. “This is my fault, I should never have tried to bring you to Maxwell’s party. We should have just laid out and watched the stars.”

My heart breaks. “This isn’t your fault Carrie. We are all victims of this town.”

Carrie’s eyes are glistening, she reaches into her pocket and offers me a pill.

“Take this,” she says. “Just don’t tell anyone I gave it to you.” Her eyes are soft, but empty.

“What is it?” I ask.

She pauses, observing Henrietta warily. The two women have an unspoken argument before she responds. “It will keep you from getting pregnant.”

My mouth falls open, my eyebrows draw together. “Thank you.” I take it.

I love Darius, but I don’t want a child. I don’t want to bring someone into this horrible world. Especially if I am stuck here.

But maybe our plan will work.

“What day is it?” I ask. I gulp the pill down dry.

“October 6th.” Carrie shifts from foot to foot, she runs a hand through her hair. “You’re going to be okay, you’re one of the lucky ones. They’ll let you out of here. You just have to put on a few more good shows. But it’s going to be hard, Sunday. He’s going to have to hurt you. To break you. You just need to disassociate. You need to pretend you are staring up at those stars. That you are at the planetarium again.” This time the smile she offers nearly makes its way to her eyes.

“Carrie, we’re all going to make it out of here.” I want to ask a million questions, but I also want them to leave. Carrie’s presence is both a comfort and a reminder of what is at stake. Of the countless victims. Of my brother’s murder.

Of how an entire town watches on in silence as hundreds, if not thousands, are abused and then go missing.

Is wealth all it takes? Is that all you need to spin your own narrative? To make the most absurd lies believable?

Disgust furrows and folds in my stomach. A washing machine that is off kilter, that doesn’t work properly and keeps cycling and cycling with no end in sight.

That is exactly who and what I am.

A broken girl in a vicious cycle.

What if I never escaped the loops at all?

The thought slams into me and lands harder than I expect. I let out a pained groan.

“I miss Auggie. And I made him a promise that I will do whatever I can to fulfill.” Carrie pulls me into one last hug, and I return it, wrapping my arms around her much skinnier frame. Her bones poke against me as she squeezes me tighter. “Sunday, take care of yourself, it will all be over soon enough and then this will just be a fading nightmare.”

Another reminder of Auggie’s lasting presence.

It nearly breaks my heart.