Chapter 11

When Vera's alarm went off the next morning to signal the start of her day, it took every ounce of her self-control not to pick it up, throw it against the wall, and roll back over in bed. Going to bed without eating the night before was now coming back to bite her, and she could feel her stomach clenching as it begged for food.

Still feeling groggy, she managed to sit herself up in bed, and throwing the covers off her, groaned when she saw her bare legs spotted with several bruises.

"Figures," she mumbled to herself and swung her legs over the bedside, feeling them protest slightly in the process.

Jumping into stormy waters wasn't exactly a norm that her body was prepared for; she would just have to take it slow for the next day or so. Rubbing a hand over her face and giving a sniff, Vera convinced her body to push itself up off the bed and carry her downstairs to the kitchen, feeling like an old person shuffling wearily about the house at a snail's pace.

Her aunt and uncle had already left for work, which saved her from an early-morning conversation about the evening before, but Vera knew the questions would come as soon as she got back later. For now, though, she just enjoyed eating a bowl of cereal and some toast in comfortable silence.


The rest of the day passed rather slowly from Vera's perspective. The air was humid on her walk to work – no doubt the lingering signs of rain from the day before – and she was left feeling sticky and sweaty by the time she made it to the library.

Mrs. Peterson spoke to her as she would any other day, oblivious to the events of the previous evening, and for this Vera was grateful, satisfied that the older woman wouldn't be watching her all day. As tired as her mind and body felt, she didn't want anyone excessively worrying over her; she would rather keep such things to herself than risk becoming a liability – if only temporarily.

The fact that Greta wasn't volunteering that day made things easier for Vera as well, as she was able to get her work done without nervous glances or questions. But knowing Greta and understanding her and James' concern the previous evening, she knew they'd be around to check on her before the day was out. At the very least this gave her time to think about last night and formulate her answers, though she was sure the majority of questions would relate to her health and well-being.

With these thoughts in mind, Vera went about her day as usual, not caring that she was a little slower in her work or that the day was uneventful. Nothing seemed to have changed. The only thing that gave her worry was when Mrs. Peterson spoke to her near the end of her shift.

She had approached Vera normally enough, but by the end of the conversation was frowning slightly and narrowed her eyes as she lowered her head downwards below Vera's face.

"Is there something – did something happen to your neck, dear?" she reached out for the collar of Vera's shirt, nearly making her flinch at the sudden closeness, and gave it a small pull downwards.

"What?" Vera asked dumbly and raised a hand up to the woman's when she noticed her frown deepen, not sure what Mrs. Peterson was seeing.

"Did something happen earlier? It looks like you've got a bruise forming around your neck here," the librarian replied, her gaze sweeping over the rest of Vera's neck as though searching for further discoloration.

Vera mimicked her frown and involuntarily roamed her hand over the front of her neck. She hadn't seen or felt anything earlier, but if she applied slight pressure she could now feel a dull pain under the skin.

"That's strange," was all she could think to say. "I don't know how that could have happened."

Mrs. Peterson gave her an unsure look, but Vera had nothing else she could offer as explanation. She recalled nothing from the previous evening, and she couldn't think of anything that might have left a bruise there like the woman described.

Mrs. Peterson let her hand drop to allow Vera to adjust her collar, self-consciously trying to tug it higher up her neck as though the apparent bruise left her feeling embarrassed.

"I guess I can go have it checked out later to make sure it's nothing serious," she fumbled out, not sure what the librarian might be thinking as the woman mumbled something about young people.

Afterwards she had gone to the bathroom and observed her neck herself, frowning once more when she saw Mrs. Peterson had been correct: along the front of her throat and creeping up the sides of her skin were several patches of apparent bruising. They didn't look too bad right then and there, but given a few more hours, Vera worried she might look as if she had a noose around her neck recently, and that was definitely something she didn't want to lead people to believe.

Biting her lip, she fastened the top button of her shirt and lessened the fold in her collar in an attempt to better hide the darkening skin, desperately wishing she had a summer scarf or something to cover her neck with. She didn't know how she was going to explain this to anyone who noticed.


Aside from this event, the rest of the day went on without surprise.

Just as Vera had expected, Greta and James were waiting for her after she left the library that evening, both eager to ask about her day and her condition. Not much was actually said about the incident from the previous day, and the cousins seemed more concerned with how Vera was feeling since then.

She assumed nothing had been found out – or anyone given any updates – about the little girl she had gone after, and thus felt it better to leave the topic off to the side for the moment, not wanting to seem ungrateful and brush aside her friends' concerns for her well-being. She reassured them several times and told them she only had a few bruises, but felt it better not to show them the ones forming on her neck, doing her best to keep them from sight as she knew it would likely throw Greta into a fit of greater worry.

After what seemed like an endless cycle of reassurances and apologies for causing trouble and making them worry, Vera managed to steer the conversation away from the subject and towards that of their attendance at the summer fair. Although the fair would go on for several days, Greta was eager for them to go when it first opened late Friday afternoon – after everyone was out of class and Vera off work. Although it would be especially crowded at this time, she swore the fireworks show at the end of the night was not to be missed, and rivaled only by that on the fair's closing night at the end of its second summer run. It wasn't as though she had to especially twist Vera's arm to going then; the library closed early on Friday to mark the end of the school year and Vera was eager to go out and do something fun.

With a plan coming together, the three decided to meet at five Friday evening around the front of the Paul Bunyan statue in the park. With Vera's OK, Greta and James would bring a couple extra friends along with them from school – so she wouldn't get tired of hanging out with only the two of them, James had jokingly added.

With everyone in agreement, things seemed to relax further, and James offered to give Vera a ride home. Although she might normally decline for not wanting them to go out of their way for her, right now Vera didn't care and wanted to be nothing more than lazy for the rest of the day. That, and she was sure Greta would continue to insist until she agreed.

The ride back to her house was brief but nice, and Vera felt if she hadn't been talking with her friends she probably could have fallen asleep in the short time it took for them to get from the library to the front of her aunt and uncle's house.

With a hug from Greta and the assurance that Vera could call them at any time if she needed something, Vera thanked them for the ride and exited the passenger seat, making sure to stay cautious so that her collar wouldn't slip to expose her bruises. She gave them each a smile and a small wave as she closed the car door, and made her way up the driveway towards the front door, unlocking it with ease and slipping inside.

Vera closed her eyes and let her head tilt back against the door with a sigh of relief as she pushed it closed with her shoulders. It was good to be home, and her aunt and uncle wouldn't be back from work for another hour or so, which gave her time to lie down and relax alone for a short while before she would likely be bombarded with questions.

Putting away her bag and changing into more comfortable clothes, Vera made her way back downstairs and flopped down on the couch slowly and content. It felt nice to lie down again, and she now had something to look forward to at the end of the week.