h her pelvis, sharp and immediate, and she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. The driver glanced at

fire escape where Mrs. Chen hung her laundry-they all looked like props in a play she'd already left. Like she'd

iver's voice cut th

he door peeling, but it was hers. Her sanctuary. The place where she was Joanna Santana,

Than

g air was cold against her legs, her dress riding up in ways that made her painfully aware of what she wa

Where was

and lip balm and the detritus of her ordinary life. Her fingers closed on

ann

ind her. From the door

hair still wet from the shower. Her roommate's eyes traveled over Joanna's

hell have

felt her face heat up, felt the lie formi

allery. We had wine, and I fell as

o fast. Too rehearsed

ke she was tasting it. "The o

s.

s is on in

visible, the tag scratching at the back of her neck. She

t Leah, into the apartment, heading for the b

n her arm. Not hard, but firm

ender spots where his teeth had been, where his mouth had marked her. Hickeys. Sh

A rash. Aller

arah'

ine. I ha

ed the door. The lock clicked. She leaned against it, br

ng back at her

lips that looked like they'd been kissed raw. And her neck-God, her neck was a roadmap of bruises, pur

ree times. It didn't help. She still looked like what she was. A woman who ha

it like she was shedding skin. Her reflection showed her everything she didn't want to see-the marks o

r the spray and let it hit her, let it pound against her shoulders and her

way with something that wasn't quite blood, something that made her stomach roll. She was

f him. The stretch of him inside her. The way he'd sai

. Wrapped herself in the thin towel that

to think. Had to figu

overed everything, cotton and practical. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail,

al. She loo

e. Too bright. The eyes of someone who

just enough to get a sliver of battery. She had to get to work. Had to pretend.

oor. Leah was waiting in

ed to

I'm real

tened. "Did something happ

of the blood on the sheets. The scratches o

"Nothing happe

s. The morning air hit her face, cold and clean, and she w

uld be fine. She jus

he remembered. The thing she should have thought of first. The thing that made

e'd pushed inside her. But that was before. Before the second time, or the third, when she'd b

e stood frozen on the platform, her mind racing, calculat

d a pharm

-

ights that made Joanna feel exposed, visible, like every person

s. Family planning. The words were clinical, polite,

ubricants. Pregnancy tests. And there, on the bottom shelf, be

an

er a box of condoms, sent them scattering across the floor. She kne

finding s

he was clearly not Brenda, clearly covering someone's shift, clearly loo

fine. T

rs, not for regular birth control-and practically ran to the self-checkou

unlocked the case, scanned the box, and looked a

as possible," he said. "There's a water

rd into the machine. Didn't

ore with steps that were too fast, too desperate. She turned the corner, into the alley

mall. White

Like chalk. She swallowed dry, felt it catch in he

as done. S

e. She was safe. The pill would work. She wouldn't be pregnant with a stranger's baby, wouldn't have to explain to h

wall. Took a step

a

to a single moment. Joanna doubled over, gasping, her hand flying to her stomach. The wall was there, c

g down her thighs, up into her lower back. She felt wetness between her legs

as sixteen. She needed somewhere anonymous. Somewhere no one knew her history. A private clinic on the Upper East Side felt li

g, but she had enough to search. Private clinic.

East Side Women's Health. The website showed photos of a waiting room that

slot. Entered her insurance information-thank God for the gallery's

ty. Two hou

ke it. She h

w, manageable. She walked toward the subway with one hand pres

shattered mirror of his bathroom. Blood dripped from his knuckles, mixing with the wa

used on the image in his mind. The girl

lex's voice came through the sp

e corridor cameras were down for maintenance l

shard of mirror, watched his own re

in. She's looking for a doctor. My mother's clinic, Upper East Side Women's