Page 17 of The Lair

Leave. Leave. Leave.

I smile and hope she doesn’t notice how the corners of my mouth are also trembling. “I’m here all the time, so you may have seen me around.”

“It’s not that.” She peruses my face again. “I’m not from here, but I swear you remind me of?—”

“Mindy,” the man beside her interrupts. “Let’s go, please. They have work to do.”

“I’m sorry about our misunderstanding,” I’m quick to say. “I need to see to other tables. Charlie?”

His eyes pinball between the couple and me. “Sure thing.”

I don’t stay long enough to check if Mindy says anything else or agrees to pay the tab without making a fuss.

I don’t stay long enough to spot Travis walking back into the bar and pulling Charlie aside before taking care of Mindy and her poor companion himself.

I don’t see any of that because, not even a minute later, I’m shutting the bathroom door behind me and throwing up in the toilet.

That woman recognized me.

She knows who I am.

She knowswhereI am.

All these years covering my tracks, for nothing.

All my attempts at leaving my past behind, ruined.

An image of Mindy scrolling through her phone flashes in my mind, and another wave of nausea hits me. I brace myself on the toilet and empty my stomach as the tears fall.

If she tells anybody…

They can’t force me to go back or to do anything I don’t want to do. I’m an adult now.

The thought doesn’t make me feel better. Maybe because being yelled at and demanded I go back wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.

I flush the toilet and lean my weight on the cold wall behind me, waiting until my legs stop shaking to exit the bathroom. Everything in me is willing my anxiety to go away, but it remains, fiercely gripping my chest.

Logically, I know what my next step should be. If someone has found out where I live, I have to leave. I need to make myself scarce once again, go somewhere else. Maine has enough small towns to start over a few times.

So what if the thought of leaving this life behind makes me nauseous again? A job I love, my co-workers, the nice people of Bannport, my freedom…

Am I ready to give it up because someonemighthave recognized me?

I don’t get to answer my own question because the bathroom door opens, and my boss walks in. The space isn’t too big—it’s just one stall and a sink—so there’s no place for me to hide, no way for him to miss me. To miss how much of a mess I am.

Travis doesn’t say a word as he opens the tap, the sound of water filling the silence between us. I keep my face down, wiping away my tears with my sleeve and hoping there isn’t vomit on the corners of my mouth.Oh hell.

Could this be worse than the period stain?

My brain doesn’t register what he’s doing until he nudges my hands with a wet towel. It looks comically small between his fingers, and it takes me a moment to peel my gaze off them. I only do so because he pushes the towel into my hands again, his silent way of telling me to grab it.

We don’t speak.

I hate that he’s seeing me like this, but at least it’s only him watching me in my most vulnerable state. It wasn’t always like that.

When the towel meets my skin, its warmth soothes me a little. Once I make sure my face is as clean as it’s going to get, I give him a tiny smile.

“Thank you.” My voice doesn’t sound much louder than a whisper, but he’s close enough to hear me, close enough for the woodsy scent of his cologne to wrap around my lungs.

---