CHAPTER ELEVEN

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Maybe Autumn was wrong.

Everyone was so impressed. So proud.

Charlotte was fine.

Her physical injuries were healing. The bruises on her thighs that had been shaped like his twisted fingers had nearly faded completely. He'd been arrested and charged, then he'd plead guilty. Apparently he wasn't quite as stupid as he seemed. Oddly enough, the police didn't put much effort into investigating who had attacked him later that night. Nobody could imagine why they didn't care.

Charlotte was back to following a routine. Her ex husband had been fantastic, and he was still having the girls more often to give Charlotte room to heal and breathe. She insisted on going back to work after two weeks, batting away Marjorie's protestations. Mia was back for good and they were together as often as Charlotte wanted. If she called, Mia came running. They cuddled and talked. Mia would brush Charlottes hair gently and tell her she was the strongest person she knew.

Charlotte was fine.

Whenever she saw parents whispering to each other, looking over at her with pitying eyes, she ignored it. This wouldn't be gossip forever, plus, maybe she was just imagining things. When the kids asked where she'd been, she told them she'd been on a super secret mission. It made them think she was special and brave.

Charlotte was fine.

When she went to bed at night, she sobbed until her throat was burning. Every evening, she'd take a bath and look down at her body, thinking how much she fucking hated every inch of it. When her period arrived, she'd had a panic attack trying to use the same type of tampon she'd used since she was a teenager. Every time someone even slightly startled her, she had to fight the urge to run. Marjorie refused point blank to put Charlotte on the rota for THAT classroom, no matter how many times Charlotte told her it didn't matter. She was secretly glad, because in reality she thought that if she ever went into that room again she'd immediately throw up blood.

But that was all private poison, hidden by the smile she plastered on her face. That smile was the only thing she had left.

Charlotte was dying.

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