"I look like the night of the living dead!" I say, glancing once more in the mirror at my water splashed face to make sure I don't have anymore drool tracks down my chin. Behind me, Madge chuckles. I'm just so happy to hear that sound that I keep going, hoping to draw more laughter out of her. "And you're no help. I basically molested Hot Guy Bearing Coffee's chest and you didn't even have the decency to wake up and stop me from making a fool of myself."
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad, Katniss," she says around her chuckles. "I'm actually certain you were in withdrawal and hallucinated the whole thing. I have zero male friends, let alone any I'd refer to as a Hot Guy."
"For the sake of my pride, I hope you're right, but that means we have a bigger problem on our hands."
"What's that?" Madge asks as I pat my face dry and hold up my now empty coffee cup.
"I'm ordering coffee while sleepwalking. Which means I really am the night of the living dead come to life." Madge bursts out laughing, then winces, lightly wrapping her arm over her middle. I toss the cup and move to hover over her, but she waves me off, smiling warmly at me.
"Is that our only problem?" she asks.
When Madge woke up, I didn't think it'd be wise to badger her with a thousand questions. As soon as she saw me, her eyes began to water, so I went for diversion tactics and immediately started rambling about my humiliation with Hot Guy Bearing Coffee. I guess she needs that for a little longer, but eventually we'll need to get serious. We haven't covered anything important. Like how she wound up here in Panem County Memorial, or why she had me listed as her emergency contact. Or where I can find her shitbag husband so I can end him. I may need to call Johanna soon.
"No," I say, steering clear of the more serious issues. "Either I have untapped potential in the imagination department or the seventh seal of hell has opened. Because I don't remember them making guys like that in West Virginia. Or even in Philly for that matter."
"Sign you up for a side career in trashy romance novels then," Madge says with a smile.
My eyes cover her entire face. The mess of bruises on her usually smooth and porcelain pale skin, the angry red of popped blood vessels in her eyes, and the purple swelling around that eye. Even her hair, normally curled and styled to perfection, rests in a tangled wreck around her head on the pillow. Tears fill her eyes as I finally meet her gaze again and her lip quivers as she reaches out for me. I immediately grasp her hand in mine.
"I can't believe you actually came here. But I'm just so happy to see you, Katniss," she says as tears start to fall from her eyes.
"Of course I came," I say vehemently. She has to know I'd never leave her in a jam if she needed me. I know we haven't seen each other or spoken in ten years, but that doesn't change the fact that she was my best friend growing up. One of the few people I could trust. "I just don't understand why you put me as your emergency contact."
"Who else could I put?" she whispers, her gaze dropping away from mine and focusing on her lap. "It doesn't matter how far away you go or how long you're gone. You'll always be my friend. You're the only person I could trust with this."
I squeeze her hand and blink away my own tears. She's perfectly echoed my own thoughts. In a small town, your friend choices are limited, but I got lucky with Madge. Our mothers were best friends, along with Madge's aunt, her mother's twin sister. Maysilee Donner had all boys, and caused a huge scandal in the town when after he died of a heart attack, she changed her and her sons' last names back to her maiden name. Almost as big as the scandal caused by my own mother's loosely defined marriage to my father.
Whenever our mothers and Maysilee would get together, Madge and I banded together to ward off the schemes of her cousins. People in town referred to us as the Dynamic Duo. Partly because where I am olive skinned with grey eyes and straight dark hair, a mirror of my father's heritage, Madge is fair skinned with angelic blue eyes and blonde hair. More than that, though, they called us that because we were constantly getting into trouble. Well, I dragged us into trouble and Madge sweet-talked us out of it. Madge was also one of the few people who stood up for me when someone whispered back-handed comments about my ancestry or my race. The nicest thing people could think of to say about me was that I was free-spirited and light-footed, suggesting that I'd eventually abandon the ones I loved. Kind of like the way my father married my mother but then didn't stick around. In trying to avoid the worst things they thought about me, I ended up fulfilling the best things they thought. Which still weren't nice. What a cruel irony.
I never realized until this minute, though, just how much I've missed Madge and her friendship. Guilt overwhelms me because in my haste to get out of that town, I abandoned Madge. And look at the awful predicament she ended up in without me there.
"So Brigham did this?" I ask. I don't really need her to confirm it. Her comment that I was the only one she could trust already pinned the guilt squarely on her husband's chest. But I need to say something or I'll either start screaming or sobbing. Madge nods, the tears still falling steadily from her eyes.
Even after I left, my mother kept me up to date with the happenings in Twelve Willows, so I already knew that Madge had taken up with Brigham Tate two weeks after we'd graduated high school and I'd beat foot out of there for Chicago and business school. Madge remained a faithful girlfriend to him while he went to the University of West Virginia, and when he returned home, it was with an engagement ring for Madge and a plan to fill her father's shoes. While I was starting my business, Madge was getting married.
Her father, Mayor Undersee, apparently welcomed Brigham into the mayoral office and provided guidance until Brigham announced his intentions to run for the office. Madge's father graciously did not run for a fifth term and instead, backed a candidate with youth and panache. His daughter's husband. If you'd asked me, though, Madge would've made a better mayor by far. Brigham was a bully and a conniving bastard because he chose his victims wisely and never got caught. Those who never felt the lash of his insults or the backlash of the lies he told teachers and other authority figures were enamored by his charm. Not me. I made no secret of the fact that I hated him growing up. Which explains why Madge never invited me to her wedding and also why she knew she could trust me with this.
"It started a month after we got married. I mean, he often lost his temper with me while he was at UWV, but he was under so much stress there, I thought it'd get better when he got home," she sniffles and clenches the hand I'm not holding. Releases the tension. "You know he's the mayor now, right?
I nod solemnly.
"It may be a small town but it's still a heavy responsibility. He may be one of the most popular mayors that Twelve Willows has had but he's constantly under pressure. Voting years are hectic and stressful. And then there are all the functions he needs me to attend and you know I like my quiet and solitude…"
She stops talking when she sees my scowl. She's making excuses for the scumbag and it's more than I can stand, but the fear that creeps into her eyes tells me that she thinks I'm angry with her. I stand and march to the door, pointing to the first nurse that I see, demanding her attention.
"Miss Undersee is ready to leave now if there are no pending procedures for her. How do we get the discharge papers started?"
"I'll take care of that right now," the nurse tells me.
"What are you doing?" Madge asks.
"I'm breaking you out of here before Bastard, I mean Brigham, figures out where you are."
"Katniss, no. I can't. He's out of town right now, but he'll be back in two days. I need to stay here and heal."
"You can heal just as well in your own home and two days gives us time to change the locks, file a restraining order, and stock up on enough coffee so I don't murder him on sight."
"A restraining order?" She squeaks and shakes her head. "The entire town adores him. He's revitalized the main street, brought in tourism to help replace the mine. If they see me like this or hear about the restraining order-"
"Then they'll wake the fuck up and realize they elected and adore a monster," I say. "Where's your stuff? We're taking you home."
"Over there," she points uneasily to a pile of discarded clothes. I march to them and pick up a rose colored silk blouse. The blood splattered on the neck and one of the sleeves stirs the anger in my blood until I am physically unable to keep it from my voice or face. I fling it into the trash can and flip open my suitcase, pulling out a plain grey henley shirt. It's not nearly as classy as Madge's clothes, but it's comfortable and not decorated with her blood. Her jeans appear miraculously untouched.
"Stand up and I'll help you put this on," I tell her as I return to the bed. She obeys. "If the odds are with us, maybe the town will turn on him and burn him alive once they realize how he fooled them all. Otherwise, we're gonna need some backup. And a lot more coffee."
Once Madge is dressed and gripping my arm, a hopeful smile on her face, I know I made the right choice to come here, and there's one more thing I know for certain. If Brigham comes anywhere close to Madge, I will take immense pleasure in watching him die.
