THE NIGHT OF their plan arrived. JP had brought the letter to the post office on Tuesday and paid extra to have it sent overnight. There was no way to know if Gil got it or if he was still interested in the deal. They just had to wait.
Jenny called it a night around nine o’clock. She gave her dad a huge hug that he wasn’t expecting but accepted. It was her good-bye. She hugged Linda too. The woman had no hesitation returning the embrace, in full denial of what their relationship had become. Jenny closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around her mother and tried focusing on fond memories of their distant past. That was the mother she owed a good-bye hug to, not the one in her arms.
Jenny climbed the stairs toward her room, taking her time and running her hand along the wall. This house was the only home she’d ever known.
Her backpack was loaded and leaning against her vanity chair. She climbed into bed with her iPod and pulled the covers to her neck. Jenny stuffed the buds into her ears and started a playlist she had made just for that night. It was two hours of her favorite songs, enough time for her parents to go to bed and fall asleep. She nestled into her pillow as the first song started. She wasn’t worried she would fall asleep. This was the most exciting night of her life.
THE PLAYLIST ENDED right on cue. Two hours and five minutes later, Jenny slid her arms from under the covers and yanked out the earbuds. The rest of her remained still, listening. The house was silent. She flipped off the covers and swung her feet around to the floor.
Her socks slid across the carpet as she made her way to the door. She touched the knob, causing a shock from the friction. She yanked her hand back. Once recovered, she reached back and opened the door a crack, just enough to see her parents’ bedroom door was closed, no light glowing from underneath, no light reflecting from downstairs.
Jenny took two steps to her vanity and stepped over her backpack to slip into the chair. She reached down and pulled her hairbrush from the front pocket. She drew the bristles through her golden hair several times, each stroke causing the hair to fall perfectly back in place. Jenny untwisted two hair bands from the handle and set them on the table with the brush.
She parted her hair down the middle, tying it into symmetric pigtails that made her look years younger in an instant. She placed the brush back into the backpack and opened the top vanity drawer.
Inside sat carefully organized stacks of makeup that she hadn’t touched in months. She took a moment to stare at the mascaras, the lipsticks, the fake eyelashes, before pushing the top layer of bold blues and reds toward the back of the drawer. The next layer of makeup was more of the same. She dove both hands in, digging through, making a mess and more noise than she should. An eye shadow set caught against a lip in the drawer and the top popped off, dumping blue dust everywhere—a mess she would never have to clean up.
Under the next bronzer compact, she found what she was looking for. She pulled the small rectangle out of the drawer and opened it. It was light pink blush with a tiny brush inside for application. She brought the brush to her cheeks, making small circles that grew with each rotation until she had the rosy cheeks of a doll.
She had decided to look as young as possible. It was important that she fit Gil’s fantasy and didn’t seem threatening. She looked in the mirror and felt ridiculous. She dropped the blush back into the vanity drawer and closed it.
As she stood, she reached for her backpack, slipping her arms through the straps. Jenny hesitated once more at the door to make sure the house was asleep. With nothing to give her second thoughts, she slid out the door and crept down the stairs.
SHE DIDN’T MAKE IT halfway through the living room before a glass smashed into the back of her head, sending her to her knees. Shards of glass rained down on the carpet, her hands narrowly missing them as she threw her arms out to catch herself.
She wanted to reach for her head, but didn’t trust her balance. Her hands in front of her were blurry and multiplying. She tried to blink her mind clear as she heard someone approaching. She wanted to look, she wanted to stand, but she needed time, a minute for her brain to recalibrate.
Before she could move, her head jerked back. Someone had grabbed her by the pigtails, whipping her neck and flinging her backward. Her backpack hit first, then her tailbone. Pieces of glass dug into her skin.
She could hear footsteps leaving the edge of the carpet and hitting the wood flooring down the hall. Jenny moaned as she rolled to the side, reaching behind her to pull out the glass that was stabbing her. The pieces weren’t in deep, but they stung. She twisted her head toward the hall. It was dark, but she knew who it was.
Linda stormed back from the study, gripping a pair of severe metal scissors.
“Dad!” Jenny screamed. Her eyes darted between her fast-approaching mother and the stairs she prayed her father would come running down. “Dad!” she screamed again, her voice piercing even her own ears.
Jenny tried to stand, but her mother was already coming down on her. Linda grabbed a pigtail and yanked Jenny onto her stomach, the pull of her pigtail in Linda’s hand jerking her face to a stop just before it could make contact with the slivers of glass in the carpet below.
“You’re a little animal,” Linda spat at her daughter. “Why did you do this to us?”
Jenny could hear the scratch of the worn scissors as they parted.
“This is what you want? To be a little whore?”
The scissors clamped shut and Jenny’s face crashed to the ground, tiny bits of glass slicing thin cuts on her rosy cheeks.
Seconds later, her head was yanked up again by the remaining pigtail.
“You’re a bad seed just like your sister. I’m a good mother.” The scissors closed again, and Jenny’s face slammed back into the carpet, causing another batch of cuts. Linda dropped the scissors on the ground, where they landed in front of Jenny’s wet eyes.
Her mother stepped away and Jenny could finally reach for her head. The pigtails were gone. She pinched a chunk of hair at the root and followed it to the tip, inches from where she started. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She lifted her head and watched her mother walk toward the liquor cabinet. Without thinking, Jenny’s small hand reached over and gripped the scissors. She took them in her palm and crawled to her feet.
Linda bent down into the cabinet, stumbling a bit. She wouldn’t be conscious much longer. Linda grabbed a bottle and stared out the bay window, swaying from side to side.
Jenny stood, feet planted, hands clenching the scissors, eyes bearing down. Her mother didn’t turn back. Instead, she brought the bottle to her mouth and took a long swig. Jenny could kill her mother. It would be easy. The woman was barely staying on her feet. She was a crazy drunk and she needed to be put down.
Jenny dropped the scissors at her feet. She waited another second for Linda to turn and acknowledge her, and when she didn’t, Jenny left. In a way, she was grateful. After this night, she would never miss her mother again.