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Merciless

Page 89

by Helen Hardt

“VexleyARC. You need to do everything in your power to get that building up as soon as possible. It’s going to change everything.” He opens the door and looks back at me. “And by the way, you of all people shouldn’t be shaming others for delegating their dirty work.”

25

ELLA

I don’t know how long I sit on the floor. I don’t know how long I cry. Finally, I drag in a breath that shudders all the way down to my bowel. Then I wipe my face with both hands and force myself to stand.

My legs are unsteady.

My body still aches in places I don’t want to think about. My arm stings where Charlotte’s nails scraped me. My scalp feels tender from the places she grabbed at my hair. My throat hurts from crying and shouting.

I grab the bloody sheet and yank it off the mattress with more force than necessary. Then I go to the small sink, turn on the cold water, and splash it over my face once. It shocks my skin, but it does nothing for my eyes. They’re still red and puffy when I look in the mirror.

I splash more water. It runs down my neck and into the collar of my uniform.

Still red.

Still swollen.

I can’t go downstairs like this.

I can’t face Charlotte’s smile or Tiffany’s fake concern or Audrey’s cold satisfaction. By lunch, half the staff will have heard I slept with Quenton Stanley. By dinner, they’ll have decided I liked it.

Maybe Hazel can help.

I smooth my hair. Straighten my uniform. Then I open my door and step into the hall. For a second, I expect Charlotte and Tiffany to still be there.

They aren’t, thank God.

I hurry to Hazel’s room and knock.

“Come in.”

I open it.

Hazel is dusting her dresser. She looks up and gasps. “What happened?”

I collapse into tears again.

“Oh, child.” Hazel rushes toward me and wraps her arms around me.

She smells like lavender, tea, and starch.

She lets me cry until the worst of it passes and then guides me to the chair by the window, handing me a tissue. “Breathe,” she says. “And then tell me what happened.”

I press the tissue beneath my nose and blow into it. Hard. “I made a mess of everything.”

“I doubt that.”

I look down at my hands, twisting the Kleenex. “I slept with someone last night.”

No gasp.

No reaction of any kind.

Hazel just sits next to me. “Who, dear?”

“Someone I shouldn’t have.”