Karma (The Exodus)

A fter drugging him again, I retreated to my bedroom to compose myself. A white stuffed rabbit sits on the bed. One of its eyeballs hangs by a literal thread, and its coat is dirty and ragged, but it’s soothed me to sleep more times than I can count. It was a gift from my father.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I swipe concealer across my cheek and around my eye. The bruises disappear beneath the thick cover-up. My hand crawls over the bruises I’ve hidden beneath my clothes.

I can’t believe that guy noticed the mark on my face. And how dare he ask about it. It’s not his business. It’s no one’s business but mine and Sam’s.

I shake my head because we made it his business when we fought in public. Sam very much made it his business when he went to punch me again. It’s the first time the abuse has been witnessed by someone else, which means it’s escalating. Sam doesn’t care who sees him hit me now.