Authors: Amy Gutman
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There are no cars left in the parking lot. It must be very late. His
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arms grow tighter around her, and he steers her into the fence. He
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presses up against her, hard, until the metal cuts into her back. She
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tries to push him away, but his weight knocks the breath from her.
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Then his mouth smashes down on hers, and there’s nothing but this
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sensation. Heat shoots up between her legs as she molds her body to
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his. They kiss for what seems like a very long time, his hand wrapped
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in her hair.
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I’m in the mood, I’m in the mood, I’m in the mood . . .
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His hands slide down her body. She arches up toward him.
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Then, stronger than desire, a flame of fear leaps up.
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Something’s wrong. This isn’t real.
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She has to get away.
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Adrenaline courses through her. She lunges forward, wrenches away,
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then sets off running. A fog has descended over everything, and she
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can barely see. Not far behind, she hears his footsteps, rapidly closing
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in. If she can just keep going, she’ll get to the church, and there she’ll be
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safe from him. She skims across the murky landscape, almost as if she’s
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flying. Then a blow to her back. Her feet cut out from beneath her.
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She feels the knife before she sees it, pressed against her arm. By
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now, she’s given up. She isn’t afraid anymore, doesn’t feel much of
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anything. Just a vague curiosity about what it will be like to die. She
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watches the blade slice through her flesh, silent and unforgiving. A thin
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red trail springs up through the paper-white skin of her arm. The color
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of roses or apples. Of Christmas wrapping paper. So beautiful to look
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at. Strange that it should hurt.
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Again, he lifts and lowers the blade, draws it through her flesh. This
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time the knife goes deeper, almost to the bone.
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No. Please. Stop.
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In the distance, she hears the wail of sirens. The knife floats down
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again. I’m here I’m here I’m here. Whose voice is that, screaming?
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The sirens are all around her. Why don’t they make him stop?
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She woke up crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. Which 32
wasn’t unusual. It had been this way since childhood, at least 33
once a week. As if some deep enveloping sadness were staking its 34
claim on her. Once her older sister, Sarah, had shaken her awake.
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“Why are you crying?” Sarah had asked. “I’m not,” she’d insisted.
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And believed it, until she’d touched her face and felt its salty 1
dampness. The dream, though, where had that come from? She 2
hadn’t had it for years.
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She pulled on a robe, then went downstairs, found Anna at the 4
kitchen table. Anna was already eating breakfast: leftover choco-5
late cake. Her hair, jaggedly parted, was yanked in a ponytail, the 6
strands pulled back tightly above the delicate shells of her ears.
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Callie almost said something — “Chocolate cake for break-8
fast?” — then decided that it wasn’t such a big deal just this once.
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“Did you take your vitamin?” Callie asked.
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“Yes.”
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“Good girl.”
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Callie got a glass from the cupboard and poured it full of milk.
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Instead of arguing about the cake, she could simply supplement.
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“Here. I want you to drink this up.”
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“But I don’t like milk, Mom.”
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Callie set the glass by her plate. “Drink it anyway.”
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Turning back to the counter, Callie started the coffeemaker.
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She felt fuzzy and disoriented, almost as if she’d been drugged.
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The nightmare hung in her mind and also something else.
Happy
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Anniversary, Rosamund. I haven’t forgotten you.
For a moment, she 21
wondered if she’d imagined that, if it too might be a dream.
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“Mommy, d’you think maybe we could get a puppy? The John-23
sons just got the cutest little dog. She’s part terrier and part bea-24
gle, that’s what they think. They got her at the pound, and you 25
don’t have to pay any money except for the shots. That’s what 26
Sophie said. They named her Florence, and she’s so nice with 27
these really big ears. She’s sort of —”
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“A dog needs lots of attention, Anna. We’re not home 29
enough.” They’d been through this before. The response was au-30
tomatic.
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Callie took a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some 32
coffee. Brown liquid dripped from the glass carafe and she grabbed 33
a rag to wipe it up. The rag was damp and oily, the splashed cof-34
fee hot. It didn’t seem like a dream. It all felt very real.
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“But why
can’t
we? I’ll take care of her. I don’t see —”
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Anna’s voice cut into her thoughts; something in Callie 3
snapped. “I said No. N.O.
No.
I don’t want to talk about it.”
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A pink glow spread over Anna’s face, almost as if she’d been 5
slapped. She looked at Callie in disbelief. She hadn’t done any-6
thing wrong!
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Callie took a step forward, but Anna was already up. She 8
hopped from her chair, grabbed her backpack and shot past Cal-9
lie toward the hallway.
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The front door slammed behind her.
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The sound echoed through the house.
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For a time, Callie didn’t move, just stood there feeling terrible.
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She shouldn’t have lost her temper, especially after last night.
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Through the window she saw that the weather had turned. It 15
looked like it might rain. Too late, she realized that she should 16
have told Anna to take her slicker to school.
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The coffee in her mug had cooled, but she drank it anyway.
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Then, leaving the mug in the sink, she went upstairs to get 19
dressed. But when she reached her room, she sank down on her 20
bed and lowered her head to her hands.
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When she’d finally finished crying, Callie wiped her eyes. She 22
went to the bathroom and blew her nose, splashed her face with 23
cold water. She glimpsed herself in the bathroom mirror, her skin 24
splotchy red and white. Her expression scared her a little. It was 25
how she’d looked
before.
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Back in her bedroom, she picked up the phone.
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“Merritt Police Department.” It was Rick’s friend, Tod Carver.
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He had a slow, reassuring voice, like the sheriff on an old TV
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show.
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“Tod? It’s Callie.” She heard the strain in her own voice but 31
hoped he didn’t notice. When she spoke again, she made an ex-32
tra effort to sound like nothing was wrong. “So how’re things 33
going?”
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“Good, actually. And you?”
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“Okay. Fine. Getting ready for the Easter egg hunt?”
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“Yeah, I’ve got the kids next week for vacation. They can’t 1
wait.” Tod had moved to Merritt from Virginia last year after a 2
messy divorce. It was hard for him, Callie knew, to be away from 3
his children.
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“How’re they doing?”
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“Great. Lilly’s started taking gymnastics. She does this amazing 6
back flip. Scares me to death, but she loves it. Oliver lost his first 7
tooth.”
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“Wow.”
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“Yeah.”
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A pause. She figured she’d made enough small talk. “So is Rick 11
around?”
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“Sure. I’ll get him. Good talking to you, Callie.”
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“You too. See you next weekend.”
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A moment and then Rick was on the line.
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“Hey. What’s up?” He sounded surprised but pleased. She 16
rarely called him at work.
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“Listen, there’s this UPS package I was expecting yesterday,”
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she began. “I was wondering if you’d seen it. I called and they said 19
it was dropped off. It’s . . . some books for school. I need to get 20
hold of them.” With relief, she noticed that she sounded normal, 21
the teariness dissipated. She hated lying to Rick but didn’t really 22
have a choice.
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“No. Sorry. Didn’t see a thing.”
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“Was . . . did anyone come by before I got home? I mean, did 25
you notice anyone hanging around the house or anything?”
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“Uh-uh. No. Why don’t you check with UPS again? I bet they 27
made a mistake. Left it at the wrong house maybe.”
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“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do that.” It had been a long shot. She’d known 29
in her gut that whoever left the note had been careful to avoid 30
detection. It wasn’t so difficult, really. During the day, the neigh-31
borhood was quiet, the adults at work or doing errands, the kids 32
all in school. And even if a few people were around, it wouldn’t 33
necessarily matter. After all these years, it still amazed her, the 34
things people failed to see.
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“Will you be over in time for dinner tonight? I thought I’d 2
roast a chicken.” One of Anna’s favorites. A small gesture of 3
apology for how she’d acted this morning.
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“You know, I think I’m just going to head home after work. I’ve 5
got to pack, get ready to leave town. I’ve been a little tired lately.”
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“Sure. Okay.” She was disappointed but tried not to show it.
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“Tomorrow, then?”
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“I’d like to. Really. But my flight’s so early.”
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“So I . . .” Callie let the words trail off.
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“What?”
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“Nothing.” She’d been about to say that they wouldn’t see 12
each other again before he left town. But thinking better of it, 13
she’d held back the words, not wanting to add to his burdens. She 14
wasn’t close to her parents these days, but both of them were 15
alive, and there was definitely something comforting in simply 16
knowing they were there.
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“Okay then,” Rick said. “I should probably get back to work.”
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“Right. Well . . . If we don’t talk before you leave, have a good 19
trip.”
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“I’ll call you when I get in.”
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“Do you . . . d’you think I could get your folks’ number? In 22
case. Oh, I don’t know.” She flushed as she asked the question, 23
feeling as if she were begging. As if she were crowding into some 24
place where she hadn’t been invited.
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“It’d be better if I called you,” he said.
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When she hung up the phone, she felt worse.
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A single car drove by outside, the sound approaching then fad-28
ing. Callie hauled herself up from the bed and went over to her 29
closet. She dropped her robe to the floor and pulled off her cot-30
ton nightgown. Naked in front of the full-length mirror, she stud-31
ied her reflection.
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Her skin, pale, almost translucent, gleamed back from the 33
glass. Her body was small and slender, with firm up-tilted breasts.
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As a child she’d taken ballet classes and actually done quite well.
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In dance, she’d found an arena where she imagined that she’d be 36 R
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seen.
It was something she’d never talked about, not even to her 1
sister, this sense she sometimes had of being almost invisible.
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Alone, she’d struggled to find a way out, a way to feel more sub-3
stantial. And then, when she was nine, she’d had a solo in the 4
spring recital.
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Everything was perfect, just as she’d imagined. She’d flown 6
across the stage, the lights beaming down, knowing that out in 7
that velvet darkness all eyes were watching her. But afterwards, 8
when it was over, she’d found that nothing had changed. As her 9