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I shrug my shoulders and take a large swig of the caffeinated alcohol she just made. I’d already forgotten that there was a package on the counter, and now that she’s mentioned it, an ominous feeling creeps into my gut.
She slides the box in front of me. “Looks like it’s for you.” She smirks. “Is there something you should tell me? Or a guy you neglected to tell me about?”
I squish my eyebrows together as my concern grows. The box has my full name and dorm room number but nothing else—no return address, no other label, no markings.
I grab my butterfly knife from my back pocket and slice the box open. In it, there’s a smaller plain clothing box inside, with two words eloquently written on the top.
I immediately jump off the stool, run to the kitchen sink, and throw up. I turn the cold water on and stay leaning over the sink with my hands gripping the edge of the counter.
Get a grip, Evie.
I desperately try to do my breathing exercises, but I can’t get my brain to function. This isn’t happening.Please, please… don’t let this be happening.
“Jesus, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Celeste’s voice travels through my mental fog.
Stand up, Evie. You are not that girl. You are not a goddamn victim anymore.I mentally chastise myself.
After a few more seconds of silence, I will myself to let go of the counter and sit back on the stool.
“Sorry. Yea, I’m fine. Maybe my stomach doesn’t agree with Bailey’s this morning.” I try and fail to smile.
She shakes her head and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Not buying that, but good try. What spooked you?”
I laugh nervously. “I don’t even know. It’s just another box.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do you need me to open it for you?”
“NO!” I don’t mean to shout at her, but I have no idea what she’ll find in that box. I know it can’t be good.
“Okay, fine. I won’t open the box. I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“I know, sorry.”
I take a few steady breaths and look back to the box with the smaller one inside. I pull the clothing box out and rest it on the counter, staring at the words ‘Little Flower’ that are neatly printed on top. Acid crawls up my throat. No one knows that name here.
Wrong. Caleb called me that last year… His father… Elijah’s…
“Little Flower? What does that mean?” Celeste questions, and I just shake my head.
I pull my eyes from the box to look at her. “Would you mind if I opened this in private?”
I don’t want to lie to her, but I most certainly don’t want to tell her what those words mean to me. And without knowing what’s inside—I just need to do this alone.
“Um, yea, sure. I just thought—”
I don’t wait for her to finish her thought. I just get up, grab the box, head to my bedroom, and kick the door shut.
“You don’t always have to be an asshole!” Celeste shouts down the hall.
I can’t worry about her right now.
I’ll apologize later.
I let go of the breath I am holding and drop the box on the floor. I sit on my bed and look down at the box, wondering what I should do. Despite my logic, and knowing that nothing good will come out of it, I open the box, anyway. With shaky hands, I move the white tissue paper inside to reveal a familiar, pale blue child’s sized dress inside.
My fingers trace over the small ruffles on the hem. I know it’s notthedress. That dress burned a long time ago. It’s uncanny, though, how close to the original it is. Someone certainly went out of their way for this one.
I can feel the material against my skin, and the memory of alcohol, stale cigarettes, and sweat invades my senses. There are no words that can describe the feelings warring in my soul as I fight the nightmares that flood my psyche with images of hands, men, and bottomless black eyes.
