Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
This wasn’t close to being over.
It hadn’t even begun.
CHAPTER THREE
I adjusted the Bulgari sunglasses my grandmother had thoughtfully provided. The lens concealed my true feelings on the hollow sympathies and perfunctory condolences of the attendees. I crafted a veneer of composure, a brittle facade that belied the turmoil that threatened to surface. Standing with the only family I had left, the thread of my thoughts frayed as I grappled with the uncertainty of whether I had taken my medication. It was a precarious moment to be uncertain, not the time nor the place to rectify such an oversight.
"My deepest condolences."
The words were a repetitive chorus from unfamiliar faces, each utterance accompanied by an insincere, forced look of grief. Give me a fucking break. These people had no idea who my aunt was. I wasn’t sure if the same could be said about my sister because she lived a life separate from us, but I would bet less than half actually gave a damn about her either.
They were here to be seen and see me like I was some roadside freak show. There was no end to the questions or speculation about my abrupt arrival and sudden reappearance. Those that weren’t offering bullshit sympathies were laughing, and conversing as if we were at an annual get-together instead of a wake.
“I’ll be right back.” I gently touched my grandmother’s shoulder and gave her a small smile, excusing myself. I felt eyes all over me as I crossed the room, unable to block out what everyone was saying.
“She looks just like her.”
“I thought she was dead too.”
“Where do you think she’s been?”
I let the voices wash over me, unheeded, as I made my way to the ladies' room at the back of the building. The door swung open to reveal a trio huddled over the sink. It took a moment for the scene to sink in. "Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?” The words bounced off the walls.
I didn’t care who heard me. My reservoir of concern for our image was depleted. A curvy blonde was now looking at me like I was the one doing something wrong. I shook my head and promptly exited before I acted on the thought of slamming her face into the goddamn mirror. The audacity to do that here of all places was just the cherry on top of a spectacular day. I couldn’t care less that she wanted to get high, that was her own screwed-up prerogative but there was a time and a place, and this was neither. She didn’t even try to hide the powder on the rim of her nostril.
Suddenly needing a breath of fresh air, I veered sharply left, escaping the oppressive atmosphere of the venue for the sanctuary of the patio. The imperative to shield my emotions was at a critical juncture, and my defenses were dangerously close to crumbling. The instant I emerged outdoors, the sun greeted me with an unforgiving blaze, though its harshness was tempered by a soothing breeze that whispered promises of comfort.
I found solace at the edge of the patio, resting against the cool stone of the balustrade with a heavy exhale. Weariness seeped through my bones. I wanted to run away and sink into the solace of my bed, yet I dreaded the restless thoughts that awaited me when I got there. It was surreal to think a whole week had slipped by. There were still so many questions yet to be answered, the most crucial being where my sister was and who did this. The coroner told us my aunt was sexually assaulted by at least two men, beaten so badly her brain bled, and then shot in the head twice--postmortem.
It wasn’t the bullets that killed her, but the violence of the assault. I kept asking myself what kind of vile human being could do something like this? What had Molly done to deserve it? The answer was rhetorical. No one should ever have to go through what she did, to die in such a slow horrific way. She would’ve felt every ounce of inflicted pain, knowing no one was coming to save her.
Even worse, I knew she would have begged. My aunt would have pleaded for her life and in the end, was given no amount of mercy. It made me sick to my stomach. She was one of the kindest, most selfless people I’d ever met and would ever know. At my mother’s behest, she’d taken me and my sister into her home without a second thought a few months after we’d turned twelve. What was meant to be a temporary situation became permanent after our parents died.
I hated to think the incidents were related. Eleven years was a long time to hold a grudge but nothing else made sense. And I knew better. In the cruel currency of this world, debts were settled in blood. My aunt had paid the ultimate price. So whose debt did she acquire? I had no one to answer that question. I couldn’t ask Grandma, who pretended I was as delicate as blown glass. And even if he knew, Uncle Luis wouldn’t tell me the truth because he was a misogynistic, sexist asshole.