Page 131 of Anger

I’m too busy to pay much attention to Blue because I’m running an assessing eye over the home she’s created for herself.

A quick glance surprises me.

You wouldn’t think this apartment exists in the complex.

Blue has modified the space with bursts of colors, all of them both complementary and contrasting, but somehow still coordinated.

A plush blue couch sits against one wall with a small coffee table in front, painted a rustic mint green.

Two potted plants sit on the table, their leaves shiny and healthy.

A circular glass dish sits in the middle of the table with three pillar candles that have been used often based on the way the wax has burned down. At the base of the candles are a mixture of stones and glass beads, all colors of the rainbow.

Beyond that, there’s a small hutch on the opposite wall with a television and a side bookshelf.

I turn to peruse the titles. “Romance?” I pivot on my heel to glance back at Blue. “I wouldn’t have thought you the type.”

She shrugs, her arms still crossed.

“Gotta find a decent man somewhere. Sadly, fiction is a hell of a lot better than reality. Now give me the information so you can leave.”

Pity for her, I’m not going anywhere just yet.

Instead, I turn to look at a small kitchen behind a half wall that divides it from the living room. Not a speck of dirt in sight. She keeps her space immaculate.

I want to see her bedroom but wonder how I’ll get past her to walk through the door.

She wants me ten feet away at all times.

I wonder what she’ll do if I creep closer.

“Your mom was abducted and taken to another country, from what we assume.”

Blue’s eyes soften, pain clearly wiping away the obstinance from her expression.

“Why do you assume that, and how did you find out? My brother has been searching for years.”

I step closer—she moves right towards the main part of the living room to keep me at a distance.

“Let’s just say that I know a guy who is good with computers.”

“So is my brother. He’s one of the best.”

“Then my guy is clearly better.”

As we talk, I step forward, and she moves deeper into the living room to keep distance between us.

“Do you want the full story about what happened to your mom, or would a summary suffice?”

“Start with the summary.” Her voice is quiet, growing weaker. So wrapped up in what she’s afraid to hear, Blue doesn’t realize I’m a few steps away from her bedroom.

“She was raped,” I say carefully. “And worse. She had your brother seven months after reappearing in the States. I’ll let you figure out what the math means.”

A sound emerges from Blue, quick and full of pain.

“That explains so much.”

I step into her bedroom, not caring that I’m invading her space.

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