Page 124 of Play Nice

“Hello?”

Carefully balancing on the ladder, I lift my other hand. Push harder.

The panel doesn’t budge.

I step up higher on the ladder, lean over so I can put my back into the lift.

I hear Leda’s voice inside my head. She can’t help herself.

Now Daphne’s. You had to go and tear open an old wound.

The wound is open. It’s always been open, festering. It doesn’t matter if I keep this panel shut. If I climb down this ladder, walk out of this house, and never come back. Whatever’s here will always be here, even if no one else acknowledges it but me.

It’s not at rest.

It’s why she was here.

It’s why I am here.

Knock knock knock.

The sound disorients me. I think it’s coming from above me, and I lose my balance. I fall forward, and my face collides with the top rung of the ladder.

And most of the other rungs as I slide down.

There’s the taste of blood in my mouth. Warm, wet agony radiating from my nose. I land on my knees, crawling forward as blood spews from my nostrils.

I think I just broke my nose.

My perfect, beautiful nose.

Knock knock knock.

The lock whirs, and the front door opens.

“Clio?” It’s Daphne.

“I can’t believe we’re back here.” Leda.

“She’s our sister,” Daphne says. “And this is just a dumb fucking house.”

“It’s smaller than I remember.”

I get to my feet and stumble down the hall, to the bottom of the stairs.

Leda and Daphne stand on the landing, looking up toward the ceiling.

“What are you doing here?” There’s too much blood in my mouth, and I accidentally swallow some, start to cough.

Leda screams when she sees me.

“Fuck!” Daphne says, rushing down to me and helping me up the stairs. “What happened?”

“I fell off a ladder.”

“There’s so much blood,” Leda says, covering her eyes.

Daphne leads me to the kitchen. She rips off a few paper towels, runs them under the faucet, and hands them to me. Then she opens the freezer.