"Sweetheart, can we please just stop? The police said they'd handle it. Let's not put anything else online. You're a young woman—your reputation matters more than anything. All the relatives back home already know. They're all talking behind our backs, and it's killing me."
I hung up and shut myself inside.
I couldn't go out. Someone might be watching from downstairs. Someone on the street might recognize my face. Just the thought of opening the door made my chest seize. So I stayed, and the walls closed in, and the nights stopped ending. I lay there in the dark, night after night, wide awake.
Every time I closed my eyes, those three disgusting faces.
Every time I opened them, those unbearable comments.
In two days I lost eight pounds.
The face in the mirror had sunken eyes and dead-white skin. I looked like something barely alive.
I ran out of water.
I bundled myself up head to toe and went downstairs to the convenience store by the apartment complex gate.
The moment I stepped out of the store, there they were.
All three of them, crouched on the steps, cigarettes dangling from their lips. They spotted me instantly.
My whole body locked. I turned to run.