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“I heard something.”
“Heardsomething?Heardsomething? It’s aparty!”
“No…”
This time we both hear it. Just one word, whispered: “Help.”
I cast a panicked look at the girl on the bed. “What was that?”
Lizzie grips both of my hands, forcing my gaze from the body back to her. “It was nothing,” she assures me, moving both hands to cradle my face. “You’re just on a trip. Baby, we need to go.”
I feel myself nod, mimicking her gesture. “We should go.”
“Help me.P-Please.” And this time a broken sob stutters through the room.
I turn back, my gaze sweeping now. “There…”
“Fuck.” Lizzie grabs both of my shoulders and pins me back against the cool wood of the door. “Stay here.”
“Okay.” But I don’t want to be left alone, and when she moves towards the corner of the room still shrouded in darkness, I find myself following close behind, my steps as wobbly as a newborn foal’s.
As she did before, Lizzie runs her palms over the bedside table, trying to find the lamp switch, and when she flicks it on, I see the second girl.
She is propped in the corner of the room, her long red hair plastered down her sweat-slicked face. She is naked, her only piece of clothing a ratty bra that is still tangled around her right arm. Her glazed green eyes bleed a fear that reaches for me like an embrace from someone I’d hoped to never see again. On the jutting bone of her sternum, below her clavicle, there is a brand. It is a keloid scar in the shape of a serpent, its body slightly coiled, its tail dropping in a straight line to just above her breasts.
Lizzie sees the branding too. She tries to pull me back toward the door, but I dig my heels in. “We should call for help.”
“Oh, sure.Sure.” Her tone is mocking. “Ah, hello? 911? Ah, we were at a party, doing drugs andselling sex,and, well, wefound a corpse. No, no worries,of course,we’ll stay with the body until you arrive.” She shoves me, hard, so hard that I stumble back a step. “Use your head, Toni!”
“We have to do something.”
“Wake up! There’s nothing you can do for them.”
“What?”
Lizzie’s expression shutters, turning from fury to carefully guarded control. “Weare notplaying the hero.”
“We can’t just leave them here!” I insist, my voice becoming more frantic with each word that leaves my mouth. “You know, Lizzie. You know what will happen if we do.” I wrap my arms around my body, trying to chase the sudden chill that immobilizes me.
Lizzie tosses her head. Her entire body is rigid—jaw wired shut, fists clenched, shoulders set—as she fights for control. The only part of her that remains wild, always, is her black hair, her short pixie cut spiked in every direction.
I remain silent, waiting for her to decide. Nonna’s words ring through the silence sitting between us:What are you doing here, Toni?
“Fuck!” Elizabeth whirls around, long legs taking three strides away from me.
For a moment, I think she’s going to leave me alone with them. But then she’s back, green eyes slit to hell. She points one long finger at me, the manicured coffin-cut nail blood-red. I don’t mention that she has taken the place of my nonna just then—Lizzie would not appreciate the sentiment. “This is a stupid idea.”
I nod.
She closes her eyes and exhales. “Fuck it.” She walks over to the closet and yanks it open. Although I don’t move, I have an unobstructed view of a walk-in dressing room larger than my bedroom. There are rows and rows of color-coordinated clothes, shelves and shelves of shoes, and a marble-topped center island with custom drawers on every side.
Lizzie doesn’t pause to admire the clothes. She rains curses down on my head as she rifles through the wardrobe. Finally, she yanks a white men’s dress shirt and black tie from their respective resting places.
I stand, useless, as she marches across the room to the woman in the corner and begins to dress her. Lizzie is not gentle. She yanks and pulls, and the woman’s small body moves like a rag doll with each careless motion.
“Toni, come and help me!”
I walk over to where she is crouched on the floor next to the woman.
