Page 70 of Cost of Courting

“Where are you hurt?”

“Ribs, head, but it’s mostly just exhaustion.”

“All right, let’s get you to my house and get you to bed.”

“No, not risking you. Just leave me here, they said their piece, they won’t be back. But they’ve got someone watching the house. As soon as I’m better, I’ll evict the low life.”

Dot clucks her tongue and then pulls me up. She manages to get me into my bed, where I lay there and watch as she sets up an IV.

“I’ll stay until it’s done,” Dot whispers. “Go to sleep.”

I couldn’t stay awake if she paid me. My eyes close of their own volition, and I fall into a dark landscape where I walk alone.

I wake with astart. True to her word, Dot and the IV are gone. I check my arm and find a tiny flesh-coloured bandage. With a groan, I roll up into a sitting position and search until I find my phone, checking to see, but there are no messages. That’s surprisingly crushing. I get up and rush to the front door, looking across the road.

There’s no movement.

I come back inside, deflated. Where are they? The heat should be over by now, shouldn’t it?

All through the day, I find my gaze drawn to their house, watching and waiting.

It’s lunchtime when I realise what’s going on with me. I’m not expecting them to come back. It’s like a repeat of what happened all those years ago.

The anxiety and old scars open up. Tear into me while I’m painfully vulnerable.

So I keep myself busy, cooking up bulk meals and cleaning in between. When the food is cool, I package it up and take it house to house, delivering it with smiles and checking up on everyone. By the time I’m done, I end up going to the small and run down community center where Tiffany Dodd is teaching people how to sew.

I remember her teaching me to sew. It’s not a skill I enjoy, but I’m happy to say I can mend a hem and fix a rip.

I go around and quietly talk to the couple of people that show up, and when it’s done, Tiffany pulls me into the back room and makes us both coffee.

“I haven’t seen you in forever, girl!”

That’s because, despite the fact that Tiffany comes here, she doesn’t live here. She’s part and apart of this community. Tiff doesn’t have the exhausted misery written into her expression. She’s optimistic, and her blue eyes shine brightly.

“I’m normally working, but I’ve got some time off.”

“Let’s go out and have a drink, then! Celebrate.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. Sorry, it’s just I need to talk to someone about something.”

She casts me an amused smile. “So cryptic.”

I pick up the coffee and drink so I don’t have to answer that.

“What can I do for you, then?”

“I just want to know if you…” I pause and close my eyes, “if you don’t hear from me, I want you to deliver these letters.”

I slide the four letters across to her.

“Luna, Dot, Mary, and Mael?”

I wait, not saying anything.

She looks up, my words finally sinking in. “Are you expecting something to happen to you?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. There’s been a development. Dot has the other letter. I’ve been given an impossible task, one that would hurt someone I care about, to complete. I’d rather be safe. If anything happens to me, this will be the evidence that will put the person who did it away.”

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