Amara flinched when the damp cotton wool pressed against the raw sting of her cheek. She bit her lower lip, her eyes narrowing at her own reflection in the mirror.
The lady staring back at her looked tired with her skin puffy under the eyes. There was a faint bruise darkening on one side of her face.
The slap still hurts, but she doesn't regret what happened between herself and Theresa. She would have done more, if given the chance.
She sighed, dropped the used cotton into the bowl of water, and reached for her chips instead.
She picked one from it, and ate it. The crunch filled the silence of her room. She chewed slowly, almost deliberately, before reaching for her moisturizer.
Her phone buzzed against the table.
Amara's eyes flickered down.
There was no name attached with the caller ID. Just a number.
