My phone buzzed. A text from Vanessa.
Denita, please come back.
Another.
I’m so sorry.
Another.
Please don’t leave.
I didn’t respond.
I took a tissue from my purse and dabbed at my lip. The bleeding had stopped, but I could still taste copper. I pulled out my compact mirror. The bruise was darkening. My makeup was ruined. My earring was in my hand. I couldn’t continue reading …
