In a strange way, I was not unhappy there. The rules were clear. No one pretended to love me while planning to break me. No one smiled and then betrayed me in the same breath.
Then Lidia came to visit.
I knew something was wrong the second she walked into the room.
The sky outside had turned the color of bruises, and somehow she matched it. She looked thinner than I remembered, as if life had been feeding on her slowly. Her blouse was buttoned to the neck even though June heat pressed against the windows. Makeup covered part of her face, but not enough. There was a bruise on her cheekbone. Her mouth tried to smile and failed.
She sat down across from me with a small basket of fruit. Even the oranges looked bruised.
“How are you, Nay?” she asked softly, like she was afraid her own voice might break.
