24
Swan Lake (Tchaikovsky)
Joline (letters)
September 19, evening
That beast broke my jaw.
I had never been hit before… except at school, once, during a soccer game, when another animal had deliberately thrown the ball at my stomach to punish me for having been placed onto his team by the teacher in an effort to “balance forces.” Like today I couldn’t breathe for several seconds, tasting blood.
Javier should have killed me. He didn’t do it because, technically, I’m still “with him.” It means he’s not absolutely sure he won’t need me anymore. He has that right. But he’s been wrong all the same to not beat me to death.
Alois’ silver chain he used to wear his flash drive as a pendant is now around my waist. The flash drive gives me access to the files of all his contacts, the buyers as
