Page 78 of Unbalanced

I hit end before we end up in one of those awkward who will hang up first moments and then squeal with happiness. He’s made the first move and wants to talk. I lay my hand over my heart and can feel it thumping out of my chest.

All my hard work hasn’t been for nothing. I can still remember the first move I made to get close to Alden.

OFFICIAL LAUNCH OF PHASE ONE – THREE MONTHS AGO

“Please don’t do this, I swear I haven’t seen him for years,” Tiffany cries.

Big fat tears stream down her face. Why do people think crying will sway a decision? I don’t get why we bother when it doesn’t work.

Crying didn’t help when I was old enough to understand that my mom was a prostitute. Tears were no use when I begged her to let me attend school. She claimed that was how the government tracked us. I couldn’t have friends because I couldn’t trust anyone. I cried when she refused to buy me new clothes, so I worked for change and bought my own from the age of eight. And it definitely didn’t change anything when she sold me.

Tiffany whimpers when I slink behind her chair. My high-heeled boots click on her expensive tile. Our meals are forgotten. She barely touched her salmon. Her wine glass is tipped over, and the bottle is smashed on the floor.

“Please, I swear. I’ll give you anything you want.”

I sway from side to side to the tinkling music of the little ballerina. The jewelry box lid is open, revealing my spoils. Each ring symbolizes my devotion to the task. Each one is meaningful, a victory leading me closer to the man I love.

The dancer twirls, a visual countdown to how long Tiffany has left to live.

“I’m sorry, Tiffany, but there is nothing I want from you,” I say, sweetly.

Her lower lip trembles, and she looks around. Her mind and body war with her fate as she tries to rationalize why she can’t move, not wanting to believe that this is really the end.

“I don’t understand,” she whimpers.

“Is your heart racing yet?”

She nods, her hands shaking on the arms of the chair.

“Your body knows something is wrong. It is desperately trying to warn you that you’re in trouble.”

I pet her hand as I stare into her eyes while tears flow down her cheeks.

“It’s your brain’s way of screaming for you to do something,” I whisper.

She attempts to lunge forward, but doesn’t get very far, making me snicker.

Sitting down in the chair across from Tiffany, I take a moment to study the fear etched along her pretty features. I love it. I love everything about the way she gasps and struggles, desperate to escape even though deep down she knows help will never come.

She doesn’t remember me, and why would she? I watched her and Alden dote on one another for six months in university before he came to his senses and moved on. I hated her every second that she got to be by his side, and I was left standing in the rain, unnoticed by anyone.

That was when I learned that not being noticed was a superpower…my superpower.

Her lips quiver as she rocks her head side to side, eyes closed, as if that will help.

“Tell me, Tiffany, do you feel lucky now?”

She mumbles incoherent nonsense and refuses to look at me. Very rude. I pull my cherry sucker from my mouth with a pop, and point it at her.

“It’s not very nice to ignore a direct question, Tiff-Tiff. Someone really should have taught you some manners,” I say mockingly, knowing that is what Alden called her.

Even now the nickname grates on my nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please stop this. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be better. I’ll go to church. I’ll repent for touching Alden,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I mock. “The problem is, Tiff-Tiff, I’m not doing this because I hate you. I did at one point, but now…you’re just useful. Do you understand? I need you to die, and begging only makes you look pathetic.” I offer a little smile and sit back. “Die with some dignity.”

“You’ll burn in hell,” she says, and I laugh.