laugh and said, “Don’t bother answering. I already know you won’t tell me the truth.”
Eva was tempted to throw the truth in her face. To spit the words at her, like bullets, piercing Liz’s belief that she could carry what Eva was hiding. She imagined rolling back the shelves in her kitchen and leading Liz down into her basement lab. This is where I make the drugs, she’d tell her. I cook them up on that camping stove over there and give half to an incredibly scary man who might have me killed if I stop.
Eva thought of Castro’s words from earlier. Of all the people I know in this business, you’re the one who doesn’t fit. “I live in a world where I don’t belong,” she finally said.
Liz stepped toward her, but Eva backed away, needing to maintain the space between them. “Why would you say that?” Liz asked. “Look at what you’ve done. What you’ve accomplished, despite all the odds against you.”
“And there it is,” Eva said under her breath. What she’d been running from her entire life. Eventually, everyone—even Liz—viewed her successes and failures through the lens of pity they felt for her.
A pressure began to build up inside of Eva, all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t. She pressed her fingers to her temples and stepped toward her door, needing to get out from under Liz’s gaze, needing to escape inside where she could think clearly, where she wouldn’t have to hide and obfuscate. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
Liz reached out, closing the distance between them, and laid a hand on Eva’s arm. “You can’t run from what’s hurting you. You can’t bury it and hope it will go away. You have to face it. Look at it. Talk about it.”
Eva yanked her arm away. “Please stop. You can’t fix this with a fucking pep talk about honesty and self-reflection.”
Liz recoiled, but her gaze was fiery, her voice rising to meet Eva’s. “Then tell me. Whatever it is. Just say it.”
Again, Eva fell silent, the words simply too big to speak. She looked through Liz’s window and into her living room, remembering the first time she sat there, terrified that her entire world was about to crumble because of Castro. Not understanding that Liz would be the one to pull it all apart. To dismantle Eva’s walls enough to shine light into her darkest corners. To make her yearn again for something more. To force her to want to be someone better.
When it became clear Eva wasn’t going to say more, Liz pulled away, letting Eva unlock her door and step inside. But as she closed and locked it, Liz’s voice floated in from the porch. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”
Eva made her way to the couch where she curled up in a ball, wishing she was already gone. That this part was already over.
Claire
Sunday, February 27
I’m frozen, waiting for the owner of that voice to find me, grab my arm, and look into my face. To call me out and snatch what little bit of freedom I have left.
From across the room, Kelly’s watching me and mouths the words Are you okay? I nod and force myself to keep moving. I slide between guests until I’m out of the center of the room, keeping my tray elevated near my chin, high enough to partially obscure my face, or to tip it forward onto someone else if I have to.
Our hostess enters, arm in arm with a woman I don’t recognize. The two of them talk, their heads bent toward one another, when someone else from across the room calls, “Claire, over here. Paula wants to tell you about our trip to Belize.”
And I realize our hostess’s name is Claire. My hands begin to tremble—shake, really—my arms and legs suddenly turned to jelly, unable to support me. I make my way over to Kelly and hand her my tray. “I need to use the restroom,” I whisper.
“You look like shit,” she says. “What happened?”
I shake my head, brushing off her concern. “I’m okay. I didn’t eat enough before work, and I’m a little woozy. I just need a minute.”
“Hurry,” she says, though I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
In a small downstairs powder room, I splash cold water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. I can change my appearance. Use someone else’s name. Go to another city. But the truth will always follow me. No matter