The word handled landed in Eve’s chest like a cold stone.
Eve Sweet learned early that the best way to survive a bad situation was to become invisible. Not literally, of course. She was a solid, healthy twenty-two-year-old with honey-blonde hair and steady brown eyes. Her invisibility was a skill: the art of a soft step, a murmured “yes, ma’am,” a posture that folded into the background like a piece of furniture. the au pair eve sweet
Vanessa must have put it there after their conversation, maybe to burn later, maybe to throw away. It sat in a little dish like a taunt. Eve picked it up, slipped it onto her wrist, and for the first time in eleven months, she did not make herself invisible. The word handled landed in Eve’s chest like a cold stone
“In the closet,” Eve said, her invisibility instinct flaring. She’d already decided to lie. “I thought it was trash. I was going to throw it away.” It sat in a little dish like a taunt
“—can’t keep paying her, Marcus! She’s a liability! What if she talks to someone?”
Vanessa snatched it. “It is trash. Don’t go through my closets.” She’d stormed off, but not before Eve saw something raw and terrified flicker across her face.