She leaned over, holding back the edge of her negligee with one carmine-tipped hand while wriggling her small feet into her shoes. They were open-toed heels with three inch heels. They added some height to her short frame and served to emphasis her rounded buttocks. She spent so much time in heels these days that she welcomed the sensation she felt in her calves as she stood. Walking on even higher heels was no problem for her despite the depth of the carpet. She glanced with approval at her pedicured toes, their crimson paint matching the shade of her fingernails.She was ready. She returned to the red-satin cushioned stool on which she had sat while doing her makeup. She turned so that her profile would be seen by whoever entered her boudoir. She crossed her left leg over her right, making sure to keep her feet close together, with the toes pointed down. She smoothed her skirts and folded her hands in her silken lap. She turned her face towards the door, a welcoming smile. I decided right then that this was not one of my finer moments.There was one part that felt warm. The small hard weight of Nana’s locket was hot against my cold skin. I tuned out the insults, turning off my ears so they stopped hearing sounds. I reached up with both hands to press the locket firmly against my skin, driving its warmth into me. The warmth penetrated straight into my heart and I felt this desperate need to stand up straight. I pushed myself up, lifting my head up, straightening my spine. The only noise I could hear was the unnaturally loud beating of my heart. They were still calling out, but my brain wasn’t hearing it, leaving me wrapped in silence. My eyes opened and I found myself staring straight into my sister’s eyes.Tara was standing there at the edge of the water, looking at me with the oddest expression on her face. Laura DiMartino had her arm slung over Tara’s shoulder. Laura’s mouth was opening and closing as she jeered at me, but I couldn’t hear a thing she.
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