Rona was a blackjack dealer there. That’s how we met. I remembered how her smile, from the center of her green baize table, turned to horrified comprehension as they led me away to the soundproofed room. The carpet was swathed in plastic sheeting, and I remembered the creatures who inhabited that room and how I’d felt brittle as glass when I realized my debt was coming due and I had no way to pay.
I remembered my tears, my pleas for mercy, and the phone call. The relief that flooded over me when I heard Gary’s voice. Gary, my big brother, swearing to help me, saying he could get the money, promising to come for me. I remembered the agony of waiting, learning all the meanings of pain and fear. The popping of my fingers, one by one, and the slow, sharp burn of the knife, collarbone to b
