I reply, asking her where she went.
A few seconds pass and I donât get a response, so I text Posey and leave my phone to charge for a little bit. I glance out into the living room and then go into the bathroom and close the door behind me. While Iâm washing my hands, the door opens and Nora appears in the mirror.
Chapter Thirty
ISTARE INTO THE MIRROR for a few seconds, and Nora stares back at me.
She doesnât move closer. She just stands in the doorway with her eyes on mine. Without looking away from her, I turn off the water and grab a towel to dry my hands. She must have been in Tessaâs room when I arrived.
âHi,â Noraâs reflection says.
âHi,â I repeat.
We seem to be saying this a lot today.
âWhat happened?â I ask. I had planned on waiting for her to volunteer the information, but I couldnât stop myself from blurting out the question.
She takes a deep breath and I watch her chest rise and fall. I turn around and she takes a few steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
When she approaches me, she seems subdued, not the same woman who was in my kitchen last night. Her hands are held in front of her, not clenching my sweatshirt. Her lips are pursed, not kissing me.
Noraâs hair is tied into a braid and resting over one shoulder. Sheâs not wearing any makeup and I notice a few freckles on her cheeks. Her eyes look tired, giving away that she hasnât slept much. Sheâs wearing a white T-shirt, another one that hangs off of one shoulder, and black leggings. Her feet are covered in pizza-print socks. This is the second time Iâve seen her wear odd socks. I like them.
âIâm okay,â Nora says, and licks her lips.
I reach for her hand and pull her closer to me. She hesitates for a moment, then steps to me.
The trash bag full of clothes says otherwise, Nora.
âYou donât seem okay.â I raise my free hand and touch the end of her braid. Her eyelids fall closed.
âYou can talk to me. You know that, donât you?â I take my hand from her hair and lift up her chin, just slightly, so I can get a good look at her.
Tired-looking blue circles line the bottom of her almond- shaped eyes. They are puffy and my stomach aches at the thought that sheâs been crying. I run the pad of my thumb over one of her closed eyes and her lips part.
Her eyelashes are so long that they remind me of the feathers on a bird.
A very, very pretty bird.
Oh, my mind is in a weird place.
She nods and I move my thumb back under her chin. Her eyes open, just enough for me to see that sheâs hiding something.
Her voice is soft and she moves her face away from my touch when she says plainly, âIâm taking care of it.â
I take a step back, wanting to give her space, and she surprises me by grabbing my shirt and pulling me closer. She wraps her arms around my back and buries her head in my chest. She doesnât cry; she just stands there, taking shallow breaths and not speaking.
I rub one hand up and down her back, letting her have the silence she seems to be wanting.
After a few more seconds, she raises her head and stares up at me.
I want to take care of you,my heart says. Then my mouth says the same.