MIKE The car was silent as I drove Ava home. The engine’s low hum filled the void between us, mingling with the faint squeal of wiper blades scraping against the windshield as dusk settled into cold drizzle. Her quiet sobs had stopped back at the atelier, replaced now by an eerie, defeated stillness. She sat curled into the passenger seat, arms wrapped tight around herself, her head resting against the window as streetlights slid across her face in fractured gold. My hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I felt both relieved that the truth was out, and sickened by what it had cost. Eloise’s face burned in my mind – the flatness of her voice, the hollow devastation in her eyes as she looked at us like strangers wearing masks of people she once loved. I wanted to believe we had done the right thing. Confession was supposed to set you free, wasn’t it? But as I glanced over at Ava’s trembling silhouette, all I felt was the deep, gnawing ache of guilt. Traff
ELOISE The atelier felt colder than ever as their voices faded into silence. I stood there, my hands trembling at my sides, staring at Ava’s tear-streaked face and Mike’s downturned eyes. I felt all the air leave my lungs all at once. I understand that it’s been a over a decade but how could Ava herself hide something like this from me even during our time at the college. My mind spun with fragments of memories – Ava and I curled up in her dorm room after final critiques, laughing at the way our professors pronounced French designers’ names with pompous accents; Ava leaving little love notes on my mirror before shows, scribbled with “You’re stronger than your fear.” Stronger than your fear. I wanted to laugh at the irony. Now, standing here under the harsh white pendant lamp, the shadows pooled around my feet felt deeper than fear – they felt like an unbreakable iron, chaining my heart to the floor. Ava sobbed once more, the sound tearing at my chest in a way I didn’t want to f
MIKE The smell of jasmine freshener drifted in and out with the help of the AC behind Eloise as I stood across her. My heart hammered against my ribs, heavy and punishing with each beat. I watched the faint tremble in her hands as she leaned against her workbench, her dark eyes fixed on Ava with such icy detachment I felt it cut through me too. Ava stood beside me, shoulders quivering, her fingers clutched around the strap of her leather tote bag as though it was the only thing keeping her upright. The silence stretched between the three of us, thick with dread and unspoken words. It was the kind of silence that felt tight, pressing into your chest until it forced the breath from your lungs. I swallowed hard, my throat dry and tight. “Ellie…” I began softly, but my voice felt useless in this room, like a blade too blunt to slice anything real. “Don’t,” she cut in quietly, her gaze unmoving from Ava. Her tone held no anger, no grief, just an echoing emptiness that terrified me more
ELOISE I stood bent over the workbench, a magnifying visor strapped to my forehead, smoothing the sharp edge of a sterling silver pendant with a fine file. The sound of metal against metal was rhythmic, calming, like scraping away slivers of my own fear. Outside, the early sun was bright and unkind, streaking through the high windows to cast harsh white rectangles across the worn wooden floorboards. Max was at preschool for the day, his bright laughter echoing faintly in my mind as I worked. He had kissed my cheek as I dropped him off whispering “Make something beautiful today, Mama.” Those words clung to me now as armor. I adjusted the tiny prong of the pendant setting under my visor. Just as I slipped off my visor to inspect the final polish, I heard the faint jingle of the front door bell. My heart sank immediately. I wasn’t expecting clients today. My assistant, Ruki, was out sourcing stone samples from the market. I set down my tools carefully, wiping my hands on the faded bl
AVA I sat on the worn faux-leather couch in my studio apartment, knees drawn to my chest, staring at the bottle of white wine perched on the glass coffee table. The condensation pooled beneath it like tears, dripping onto the stack of unpaid bills and unopened letters I hadn’t bothered to clear away. My trembling fingers hovered near the stem of the wine glass. I had poured it an hour ago, convinced it would numb the guilt gnawing at my insides like feral rats. But every time I lifted it to my lips, the image of Eloise’s face floated before me. Her eyes shining with unbreakable trust. Her smile brightening the darkest corners of my life. Her faith in me, untainted and undeserved. I let the glass clink softly back onto the table. My vision blurred with tears as the city beyond my window pulsed with late-night car lights and traffic hum. I buried my face in my palms, fighting the nauseating swirl in my stomach. “God… what have I done?” I whispered into the silence. The room felt su
Eloise The city was quiet tonight. Even the usual hum of traffic beyond my window felt muted, as though the world itself was catching its breath. In the hush of my small apartment, I sat cross-legged on the carpet, pencil scratching against sketch paper illuminated by my single brass table lamp. Max lay curled under his dinosaur-print blanket, his small chest rising and falling in even rhythm. I watched him sleep for a long while before returning to my lines and curves, shading the arch of a necklace design that mimicked the sweep of his lashes against his cheek. I had picked him up in the morning. “Light,” I murmured to myself, pressing the pencil tip deeper into the paper, “but strong.” My phone buzzed beside me. I flinched, heart pounding with instinctive dread. But it wasn’t Lucian’s name lighting the screen. Or Mike’s. Instead, it was an email notification. Subject: Custom Commission Request – Private Client My hands shook as I unlocked it. The message was short, direct: M