**Elena**
“What do you mean by a picture of me?” I asked to be sure I heard her correctly.
But she didn't answer, just went on.
“It was marked,” she said, fingers drawing shapes in the air like she could still see it. “Several red lines all over it. Maybe a pen, maybe a knife. It looked like someone stabbed it over and over.”
My skin went cold.
“You’ll have to run away,” she said, grabbing my hands as if to pull me somewhere, anywhere.
“Look,” she whispered then, trembling as she showed me her eye.
As though reminding me of the swelling, the blood clots in it.
I already saw it.
“I don't want something like this to happen to you”. She said as she grabbed my arm.
And my chest felt tight
“When did this happen?” I breathed.
Her face crumpled.
“Not long after I came back from the
