“Are you feeling a little better now?” Sherry asked me worriedly.
“Much better, thank you,” I muttered, having downed the tea and dutifully eaten some of the bagel she’d prescribed me. And I did feel better, at least my stomach did. I’d calmed down a little since I’d entered the shop, my heartrate finally back to a normal thump-thump pattern.
It was surprising that I hadn’t had a heart attack.
The panic had been nearly suffocating earlier.
In that room.
With the girl.
Mari
It’s like a VHS in my head, incessantly rewinding and starting, playing the same traumatizing scene over and over and over—the way she’d stood there, twitching, silent—and then the rage in her scream.
I could still smell her.
I could still feel how close she was, in my space
