Page 113 of Push My Buttons

"This place is..." she trails off, looking around the spacious living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows and minimalist furniture. "It's like something out of a magazine."

I nod, settling beside her with my own mug. Theo's apartment is impressive—all sleek lines and muted colors, with subtle touches of luxury that speak of serious money without being ostentatious. The kind of place that looks effortless but costs a fortune.

"Drink," I tell her softly. "Sugar helps with shock."

She takes a sip obediently, then turns to me with haunted eyes. "I can't stop seeing it, Wren. Every time I close my eyes, I see—" She breaks off, swallowing hard. "His hands. Just... sitting there on the counter like some sick display."

I squeeze her shoulder, wishing I could take away the images burned into her mind. I know all too well how trauma lingers, how it plays on repeat when you least expect it.

"Movie?" I suggest, gesturing to Theo's massive television.

Maya nods gratefully. "Something mindless. Something with absolutely no blood or violence or..."

"Disney?" I offer with a small smile.

"God, yes. The most saccharine, happily-ever-after Disney you can find."

I queue up the most cheerful animated film I can find, then retrieve the bags of junk food Theo bought before leaving us alone. True to his word, he'd purchased enough chips, candy, and ice cream to feed a small army—or two traumatized women trying desperately to forget.

For the next few hours, we lose ourselves in animated worlds where good always triumphs over evil and everyone gets a happy ending. Maya gradually relaxes beside me, the trembling in her hands subsiding as she works her way through a bag of sour gummy worms.

"This is nice," she says during a lull between movies. "Almost makes me forget..."

I nod, understanding perfectly. "That's the idea."

She turns to study my face, her expression softening. "You're using your voice more. It sounds stronger."

I touch my throat self-consciously. "Trying. It’s still hard sometimes, pushing past my memories. Reminding myself I have a voice."

"Well, I think it's beautiful," she says firmly. "And brave. After everything you've been through..."

I shrug, uncomfortable with the praise. To distract her, I reach for more snacks, pushing a bowl of chocolate-covered pretzels toward her.

We start another movie, but I can tell Maya's attention is wandering. She keeps glancing at me, then away, as if there's something she wants to say but can't quite find the words.

Finally, during a musical number, she huffs and hits pause on the remote.

"Okay, enough distraction," she declares, turning to face me fully. "Tell me about this project you need my help with, the one you mentioned."

I hesitate, not sure if now is the right time. "It's not important. We can talk about it later."

"No," Maya says firmly. "I need something to focus on. Something that isn't..." She gestures vaguely, and I know she means the café, the blood, the horror she saw. "Please," she adds, her eyes pleading. "I need something else to think about. Something good."

How can I refuse her when she looks at me like that? I set aside my own bowl and reach for my phone, pulling up the photos I've been collecting for inspiration. Taking a deep breath, I begin to explain my idea for the launch party tomorrow.

Maya listens intently, her eyes gradually widening as I outline my plan. By the time I finish, she's sitting up straighter, the haunted look in her eyes temporarily replaced by excitement.

"That's... wow," she says, a genuine smile breaking through the tension for the first time all day. "That's actually brilliant, Wren. Bold. Sexy. A little dangerous, even."

I grin, pleased by her reaction. "Will you help me?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I'll help!" She studies my face for a moment, her expression becoming more thoughtful. "The stitches in your scalp will make it a little hard to pull off, but I have an idea."

She pulls out her phone, scrolling through images rapidly. "See, we can work with this. We'll need some specific supplies though..."

I watch as she makes a list, her fingers flying across the screen. It's good to see her focused on something other than the horror she witnessed this morning.

"I'll need to get all this tonight if we're going to have time to practice before the event tomorrow," she says, glancing up. "Do you think there's anywhere still open that would have what we need?"