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Part One: Shock and Denial
Chapter One
Day 1
I wrote a novel I wrote a novel and it was published I wrote a novel and it cruised onto the New York Times Bestseller List I wrote that novel and then I watched it play out in aof popcorn in my lap My novel That I wrote I did it all alone, because that’s how I like it And if the rest of the world wants to pay for a peek into my discombobulated s So I hide myself instead
It’s my thirty-third birthday I wake up in a cold sweat I aled aroundto cover ainst the silky material Maybe they’re swollen I can’t tell because lued shut, and now I’ the blankets, letting myself drift … backwards … backwards…
When I wake up, there is light in the rooh my eyelids It is di s in my bedroom; I roll in their direction and force open s There are none of those in th of the fully awake
I am not in my bedroom I stare around the rooht before Had I—
No way I haven’t even looked at a man since … there is no way I went hoht I had dinner with lasses of wine Chianti doesn’tis shallow as I try to remember what happened after I left the restaurant
Gas, I’d stopped for gas at the Red Sea Service Station on Magnolia and Queen Anne What after that? I can’t remember
I look down at the duvet clutched between s over the side of the bed and the rooe drinking binge sick I gasp for air, trying to breathe deeply enough to quell ain
“I’,” I say out loud But I’ood ten seconds before I aht on the wood floor My stomach is empty, but it heaves anyway I lift —too heavy This isn’t a hangover I’ve been drugged I stay bent over for several hten up I feel like I’ inThere is a fireplace—with no fire—and a four-poster bed There is no door Where is the door? Panic kicks in and I run in a clus buckle
“Where is the door?”
I can seeinto the air I focus on that, watch it expand and dissipate My eyes take a long ti I stand there, except my feet start to ache I look down atGet out On the wall in front of me there is aI a I notice is that I’ I notice—oh God! My brain sends a chill down the rest ofYou are done, Senna, it says Over Dead Someone took you My mouth is slow to respond, but when it does, I hear my intake of breath fill the dead silence around asped in real life until the , heart-stopping moment, when all that fills my eyes is snow So ht below me
I hear ainst the wood, then I fall into darkness When I wake up, I a in a pool of h my wrist when I try to push myself up I cry out and shove my hand over my mouth If someone is here I don’t want theht of that before you started fainting all over the roo a racket
I grip my wrist with my free hand and slide up the wall for support It is then that I notice what I a Not my clothes A white linen pajama set—expensive Thin No wonder I’m so damn cold
Oh God
I shut ht me here? My hands are stiff as I reach across my body to exa, no soreness, except I a white cotton panties that someone put onht, I start to shiver Uncontrollably No, please, no
“Oh, God,” I hear myself say I have to breathe—deep and steady
You’re freezing, Senna And you’re in shock Get it together Think
Whoever broughtme freeze to death I look around There is wood in the fireplace If this sick fk left ht it with The bed I woke up in is in the center of the room; it is hand carved with four posters Sheer chiffon is draped across the posts It’s pretty, which makes me sick I take inventory of the rest of the room: a heavy wooden dresser, an ars Throwing open the wardrobe, I rifle through clothes … too ers on a label The realization that they are all in my size sickens me No—I tell myself No, they can’t be mine This is all aReds … blues … yellows…
But my brain knows it’s not a rief and so is my body