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The mirror was covered in mist now, preventing me from seeing the fading bruise near my hairline or the purple below my eyes.
Condensation shifted under my fingers, and I wished I hadn’t bothered looking.
I fluffed my hair a little, hoping it would make me feel a little better about my poor appearance as I stepped back into the bedroom.
“Does Beyond Heaven have something to help with these?” I asked, pointing to the patches below my eyes that made it look like I’d never slept in my life.
My shoulders slumped. How awful was I to be worried about such trivial things when I’d killed someone yesterday. I’d fucking killed someone, and here I was, worrying about my appearance.
Footsteps approaching brought me back to the present. Kate’s fingers tipped my chin, and I found her sympathetic blue eyes inspecting each tear that reached my waterline.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t?” I questioned.
“Don’t lose your fire. I’ve watched you in awe for the last few minutes. I’ve never met a woman like you, not one in my line of work. Every victim—”
There was that ugly word again.
“—who has entered Beyond Heaven over the last few years has been mentally and physically broken. You seem different. Almost adamant you won’t allow that to happen. It’s refreshing. And now, tears.”
“I did something bad. I should feel awful, and I do feel awful.” I looked over to Kate, who was a good two or three inches taller than me in her shiny black heels.
“Guilt won’t change what’s happened, and you aren’t the first who has been forced to hurt another to survive.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“And that is why this can’t haunt you forever.”
Soft cotton filled my hand, and I glanced down to see a pair of underwear that matched my new clothing.
“Put these on. They’ll be the most comfortable.”
“Thank you.”
Shame wasn’t something I was familiar with when it came to other girls, so I didn’t bother drifting to the bathroom or closet to add the panties to my body. I did it with an audience.
“Do you like TV? Remi doesn’t have one here in the bedroom, but there’s a big one out in the living room. For whatever reason, there were Christmas movies playing when I got here.”
“Is it Christmas?” I vaguely remembered a tree and presents and me, with others sitting around me, their faces blurred, their bodies, too.
“It’s January, so Christmas is over. I think Woody just likes what he likes.”
“Woody. He’s the little one?”
Remi mentioned three brothers. Ollie, who didn’t like the idea of me being here all that much. Dec, who he moaned about—something about not being allowed to use his fancy china. Woodrow, the baby of the house, literally, as he had Multiple Personality Disorder, and part of him—Woody—would always remain a child.
“Yes. Though he lives inside a twenty-eight-year-old body.”
“Remi told me about him. They’re close.”
“They are very close. Woodrow lost his whole family a few years back. His girlfriend was in a similar situation to you, and because of that, we have Beyond Heaven. It was his idea to use the land he grew up on. It’s a beautiful space. If you ever feel like you need to mix with others who have had similar experiences, have Remi bring you over some time.”
“Does Woodrow’s girlfriend visit?”
“About once every month. But for other reasons. She’ll probably tell you about them at some point.”
“Is she here?” I wondered, because Kate was right, it would be more comforting to talk with someone with experience that wasn’t passive. Talk to a girl who would understand all my feelings because she’d felt every brutal blow that the world and the sick bastards who lived in it had to give.
