Even as she reminded herself of this, shecouldn’t deny that shedidcare. There could never beanything between them again, and what had been between them was alie, but she did care, though she’d prefer it if she didn’t.
Her tears finally subsided, and feelingbetter, she wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled the traycloser. Steam wafted from the soup when she dipped her spoon in,and she rolled her eyes as the soup slid down her throat.
She devoured the rest of it before chuggingher water and sipping the coffee. When she finished, she felt athousand times better and more capable of facing whatever was goingto come next.
Determined to find out what was happening andto rid herself of the stench enshrouding her, she pushed the trayaway and rose. She walked over to her closet and opened it todiscover the clothes she left behind still hanging neatly within.More clothes, sneakers, and accessories filled the shelves, makingup the bottom half of the closet.
When she left for college, Melanie only tookthe clothes on her back, and she threw those out the second she gotnew clothes. Her freedom deserved a new wardrobe.
Now, as she gazed at her clothes, the pastand the loneliness it entailed rushed back to her. Nothing hadchanged, and if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought thepast three years were a dream.
As it was, she felt the more confident anddetermined Melanie she’d become in college slipping away and theold, scared Melanie taking her place.
Frightened by how fast this place was takingover her life, she grabbed a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a hoodiealong with some socks and her worn black sneakers. Even in themiddle of the summer, it was cold down here, and the heat neverfully eradicated the chill.
Her hairbrush remained sitting on the topshelf with some shampoo, conditioner, soap, an unopened toothbrush,and a tube of toothpaste. She suspected somebody placed the latterthings here while she was in interrogation or passed out on herbed. She stuffed the toiletries into the clear, plastic containershe’d left behind and used for this reason and lifted two towelsfrom the shelf. She slipped on her flip-flops and closed thecloset.
Her shoes flopped against the concrete flooras she left her room. She padded down the hall to the bathroom sheand Lucy shared with the few other single women who resided intheir section of the facility.
She had no idea if those women still lived inthis section or if they’d found a significant other and moved intoone of the couples’ wings on the same floor. As she walked, some ofher happiness overfinallyfeeling better and thinking moreclearly waned.
Trapped in this facility once more, theweight of the world above weighed on her shoulders. She might neverwalk free of this place again. Her father had come for her, takenher, and after everything that happened, he probably wouldn’t lether go until he was dead.
And considering he was an extremely healthyman who was only in his early fifties, it could be decades beforeshe ever got free again. And who knew what she would be like bythen.
Maybe, by that time, she would have given upfighting, married one of the men down here, and become one of herfather’s mindless drones.
She felt like crying again, but she blinkedaway the tears. She wouldnotshed any more of them.Somehow, she would find a way out of this, and she would be freeagain.
Once inside the concrete bathroom thatsmelled of bleach, she stopped to gaze at the row of four whitesinks with their mirrors hanging over them. A single paper toweldispenser sat at the end of the row. Across from the sinks were theshowers.
She set her things on a wooden bench outsideof one of the four showers and turned the water on. Then, shewalked around the showers and to the other side of the largebathroom to use one of the four toilets over there. Once finished,she washed her hands and returned to the showers.
She stripped and threw her clothes into thetrash can before stepping inside and pulling the white, plasticcurtain closed behind her. She washed her hair three times andscrubbed herself until her skin was red. The water was cold by thetime she reluctantly left the shower behind.
She dressed quickly and brushed her hair andteeth before returning to her room. The door to her room wasclosing behind her when Lucy slipped inside.
“You look a lot better,” Lucy said as sheclosed the door.
“I feel a lot better,” Melanie replied.
She’d always considered her room a prison asthe concrete walls didn’t allow for much decorating. When she wasten, she had the brilliant idea to paint the room purple. Herfather humored her, but she only got one wall done before the paintseeped into the concrete, and it looked awful.
She slept in Lucy’s room for a week while shewaited for her room to air out. She sometimes still swore she couldsmell the paint, and sheloathedthat purple wall.
It started as a symbol of hope and change,but it proved to be nothing more than shattered dreams likeeverything in this place.
However, the wall remained purple becausethere was no removing the paint from the concrete, and she neverbothered to try covering it up. She suspected it would make itworse.
“What happened?” Lucy asked. “What did theydo to you?”
Melanie ran her hand through her wet hair asshe sat on the bed and stared at her empty room. Her room in theirapartment hadn’t been the biggest or prettiest, but it washers. It was full of hope, and there was life in the yellowwalls, windows, curtains, and the few pictures she had hanging onthe walls.
There was no life here.
“I’m not sure. A lot of it is shrouded in ahaze of drugs and exhaustion. But I know they asked me all kinds ofquestions about Kyle and demanded to know what I could remember ofhim.”
Melanie rested her forearms on her knees andclasped her hands together as she leaned forward. There was achance someone could be listening to them, so she was very carefulabout what she said.
