“She didn’t speak,” Lexi whispered. “She told me she couldn’t. But she wrote on a pad of paper. Her name is Elsie, Lev. She’s eighteen, nearly nineteen.”
“Elsie,” Levi repeated, then cleared his throat. The way his voice wrapped around my name sent butterflies straight to my stomach.
“She’s a sweet girl, Lev. I can see why you wanted to help her. Beautiful too,” Lexi added. “But then I’m sure you already saw that for yourself.”
I heard the floorboards creak as if someone was rocking back and forth on their feet. “Yeah,” Levi suddenly whispered, and I felt like I had melted into the soft mattress.
Levi thought me beautiful?
“I’m just gonna sit with her a while, Lex.”
“Okay, honey,” Lexi replied. I heard the door close. Levi and I were alone, together, in the room.
I wanted to lift my head. I wanted to see what Levi Carillo looked like, without me being sick and confused. And I really wanted to thank him. I wanted to thank him for saving me—for caring enough to want to.
No one had ever cared before.
But I couldn’t. I was too terrified. With this boy, fear held my body and mind captive, leaving me frozen on the bed, eyes closed, faking sleep.
The chair’s legs beside me scraped on the floor, then I felt Levi’s presence as he faced me and sat down. I was sure he’d see through the fact that I was awake; that or the loud beating of my heart would be picked up by his perfect hearing and reveal how unnerved I felt in his presence. But nothing of the like happened. Levi sat in silence. I breathed steadily through my panic.
I listened, thankful my right ear was not laying on the pillow so I could hear him. His scent drifted into my nose, bringing in tow a feeling of peace. His scent was spiced and warm. It was strange, but it reminded me of the feeling of holding cold hands to an open fire, of drinking a hot drink on a winter’s night—welcomed, and calming… needed.
Levi didn’t move the entire time he sat there, but it was long enough for my pretend sleep to change into true sleep. As my breathing evened out, and my mind drifted away, I felt rough fingers land ever so gently on mine, and a voice at my ear whisper, “Goodnight, Elsie. Sleep tight.”
At the sound of the bedroom door closing, I mentally touched my face; for the briefest of moments I thought there was a whisper of a smile on my lips. No, I corrected, I was sure it was there, because it had to match the ghost of a smile that had taken root in my heart.
*
I woke during the night and a deep unease immediately crept over me. The room was pitch black. I didn’t like the darkness. I felt the stirrings of anxiety thread across my chest, and I reached out to search for the bedside light. My hand hopped over the wooden side table, until I found a wire and, at the end, a switch. I clicked it on and a dull glowing light filled the room. I breathed deep, holding my chest.
I hated the dark.
The voices came in the dark. Annabelle’s cruel words attacked me at night, when I was most vulnerable, when the memories hurt the worst.
I sat up. The clock on the nightstand told me it was past midnight. I touched my head, it was damp and sticky. My eyes drifted across to the bathroom and, before I knew it, my legs were carrying me through to the huge shower. I didn’t want to wake anybody, but Lexi had assured me that no one would be disturbed by me from this room in the house.
As the bathroom filled with hot steam, I stripped off my pajamas and my skin goose-bumped at the thought of having a shower. A shower. I hadn’t had a shower in… I didn’t know how long. Long enough that I’d completely forgotten what it even felt like. On the streets I sneaked into public restrooms and washed myself down before they closed, before the nighttime’s unsavory characters began walking the streets.
I stepped into the shower and I closed my eyes, just standing under the hot stream of clean water. Lexi had left all kinds of shampoos, conditioners, body washes and razors for me to use. It was the longest shower of my life. When I stepped out and wrapped myself in the soft towel hanging on a hook, I felt human again. It was funny how being a nothing person on the street, someone people ignored like you were not even there, takes away your conviction that you really are someone. That you matter too.
That you’re human.
I was in the bathroom for an hour or more, indulging in the use of a blow dryer and tubs of moisturizer. As I was about to leave, dressed in a fresh pair of pajamas Lexi had put in a closet, I caught my reflection in the floor length bathroom mirror. I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared at the girl looking back.