The city passes by outside—normal people living normal lives, completely unaware that six women emerged from a nightmare that will extend into the next year of their existence.
“My father,” Cora says, her voice so quiet I almost miss it.
I turn toward her, but she’s still staring out the window.
“Did you see his face?” She barks out a piteous laugh. “Thirty years of his tough-on-crime platform while secretly profiting from the very enterprises he condemned, and now his own daughter...” She trails off, her reflection ghostlike in the glass.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”
The words slip out before I can stop them. Cora finally turns from the window, and I see the tears she’s been holding back glistening in her eyes.
She nods once, quick and sharp, like she doesn’t trust her voice.
When the taxi pulls up outside Cora’s brownstone, we both climb out into the cool night air. I hand the driver a twenty and wave off his attempt at change. My hands shake as I stuff the remaining bills back into my purse.
Cora’s keys rattle against the lock. She tries three times before managing to get the door open, her fingers trembling so badly she can barely grip the metal. I want to help, but her rigid posture warns me to keep my distance.
The moment we step inside her apartment, the dam breaks.
Cora collapses against the closed door, sliding down until her ass hits the hardwood floor. The sobs that wrench free of her are so devastating, it’s like they’re ripping pieces of her soul away.
I drop to my knees beside her, pulling her against my chest despite her earlier flinching. This time, she doesn’t pull away. She grips my dress like I’m the only thing keeping her anchored to earth.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair over and over. “Cora, I’m so sorry.”
She cries harder at my words, her tears soaking through the thin fabric of my dress. I stroke her beautiful chestnut locks, but that only brings me back to the scene where Dominic ran his fingers through them while he moved inside her. The memory makes my stomach lurch.
“My father,” she gasps between sobs. “Did you see... did you see what I did to him?”
“You didn’t do anything to him,” I say fiercely. “This isn’t your fault.”
But even as I say it, the guilt eats at me. Because it is someone’s fault. It’s mine.
“I wanted it,” Cora whispers, the words choked out as the tears continue to spill. “In that moment, with all three of them... God help me, Mira, I wanted it. What does that say about me?”
I hold her tighter, my own tears starting to fall. “It makes you human.”
Cora pulls back from my embrace, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her brow furrows as she looks at me.
“There’s something wrong with me, Mira.” Her voice comes out flat, emotionless. “What woman would like three men forcing themselves on her?”
I open my mouth to protest, but she continues before I can speak.
“And all for revenge, too.” She laughs bitterly, the sound echoing off the walls of her apartment. “Dominic told me exactly why they targeted me. Because of myfather. Because they wanted to hurt him, and I was conveniently the deepest cut they could make.”
Her hands clench into fists in her lap.
“And you know what the sick part is? I still came apart. Even knowing they were using me as revenge against my dad, I still screamed their names when they made me come. All three of them, at the same time, in front of everyone. They didn’t even wantme, just revenge. I am just a means to the end they want for him. I’m— nothing.”
The raw anguish in her voice makes my chest tight. I reach for her hand, but she pulls away.
“What kind of person does that make me? What kind of daughter?” Her green eyes search mine desperately. “I should have fought. I should have been disgusted. I begged them for more. I begged to benothing.”
“Cora—”
“No, don’t try to make me feel better about this.” She scrambles to her feet, pacing across the small living room. “There’s no excuse for my reactions. No justification for how much I wanted it, even after they told me the truth.”
She stops in front of the window, her reflection ghostlike in the glass.
