Nora
Physical therapy hurts. The way my leg broke, makes bending at the knee an excruciating experience. That and the fact that my knee has been stuck in mostly one position for what feels like forever.
“Just one more,” Dan says. Dan. I hate that name. It’s plain and short and boring. Or maybe I am just grumpy because of the pain in my leg right now. I can’t really tell.
“Good job, Nora,” he says. “You’re really lucky. This type of break could have been a lot worse.” I laugh. Lucky. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know anything. Lucky is not a word I’d use to describe myself or my life.
I wipe sweat from my brow and toss the towel at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” I limp in my soft cast but I feel like it is a small price to pay considering the damage done to my body from the accident. The room we work in is hot and I long to wear a tank top but I am certain my back would horrify Dan during our session, so I sweat through a t-shirt.
By the time I get home, the mail has come. I reach my hand in the box and pull it all out. Junk. Junk. Bill. Bill. Actual letter. It is addressed to me, although I don’t know who would write to me. The handwriting is simple and familiar looking. There is no return address and the postmark is not from this town. That handwriting. Like a child’s almost. Charlotte. I tear open the envelope. The other mail, forgotten, drops from my clutch. I yank out the folded sheet of paper.
‘Only Ever You’ is scrawled in Holden’s handwriting with a pressed wildflower in the folds of the paper. The dried flower floats in the air until it hits the porch. My hands tremble. On one leg, I bend and pick up the mail.
“Here, let me help you,” Eve says from behind me. I yelp and fall sideways, landing on my hip. “Jesus, what . . .” she pauses when we make eye contact, “you’re crying.” She helps me stand and brings me into the house. In the living room she filters through the mail while I dry my eyes. Her gasp is all I need to begin crying again.
“I have to tell you something.”
She looks to me, her brown eyes terror stricken. “It isn’t the first time he’s made contact.”
“Tell me everything now, Nora.” I cringe at the last two words that leave her lips. Memories of stripping bare and posing for Holden rush my mind. Now, Nora.
“He called me at the hospital, and he left wildflowers on the porch here. And now the note.” I don’t want to give all my secrets away but I don’t see another alternative.
“What did he say when he called?” she barks at me.
“Only ever you,” I say. “It was our thing. It was . . . it was romantic. I felt special.”
“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could have traced the call or someone could have lifted fingerprints from the flowers.” Eve drags her hands through her hair. Her face is tinged pink. She is angry. I should be angry. This is my life. My heart. Mine.
“Really?” I scoff. “Come on, Eve, this isn’t a movie. He didn’t stay on the line and fingerprints from flowers?”
Eve pulls her shoulders back, correcting her posture. “Okay, maybe that one was a stretch but . . . I don’t know why you’d keep all this a secret.”
“It seemed harmless. I told you he’d come for me. There are details on the house and with the Clarks. I don’t know,” I blurt out. “I’m telling you now.” And isn’t that good enough?
“He made Charlotte write your address.” Her voice is flat and dejected.
“I know,” I sob. “But that means she’s still alive and well enough to write.”
“It also means he’s been to this house, Nora. That he’s close.” Eve shivers. The hairs on her arms stand up. She tries to smooth them down.
I nod and wipe my eyes. “I know that.”
“We need to call Agent Brown and tell her. This note is evidence,” she says. She sets the letter and envelope on the coffee table, as if it is fragile. She kneels before me. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know. I’m not right, Eve.” Her arms wrap around me and she holds me close to her chest. I want to be sure of something. Anything. But I am all mixed up. My feelings splatter together like a whisk in batter. I lean into Eve’s embrace.
“You’re fine. You’re getting there. Maybe after we talk to Brown, we should call an emergency session with Dr. Richardson.” She rubs my back.
In this moment, I don’t know how I would survive this without Eve. She has become more than I ever thought she could. She is, like Lotte, a part of my soul. She wipes at my tears and holds my face.
“We all cope differently. I fought him, you fell for him. But you’re safe now and you are strong, Nora. Just keep fighting. Keep fighting for your old self.”
I nod and thank her. She digs her cell from her back pocket and calls Agent Brown, followed by Aubry, for moral support and then Dr. Richardson. Eve reminds me of my mother. She does not think twice about doing all this for me when I am incapable.