after they met her

eighteen

i v a n a

The weekend had just started, but it already felt different.

My brothers had driven away for "business," it had an ominous undertone when it came up. Being in the mafia meant that "business" was rarely straightforward. I could only guess what they were really up to.

They left Raymond in charge of keeping me entertained. As always, his presence was both comforting and slightly irritating.

In the morning, we began with our usual self-defense training.

Ray had insisted on it even though it was the weekend, claiming it was essential for my safety. Despite his sometimes overbearing demeanor, I enjoyed our sessions. They made me feel stronger, more capable of handling the chaos around me. Today, however, Ray couldn't help but make a few offhand comments about my body.

"You're getting lighter, Ivana. Are you sure you're eating enough?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes filled with concern.

I actually was eating enough.

Well, kind of.

I ate and I ate and I ate afraid of what the doctor might say about me next week, but I couldn't stop thinking about staying in control.

My brain screamed „Stop" whenever I got another serving.

When I ate the pancakes Asher made for breakfast yesterday, I skipped lunch at school. When I ordered a pizza on Thursday, I begged Ray to train twice as long with me.

It was easy to be in control here.

They didn't catch on to me.

But I caught on to me.

Even though I ate so much, I chose different methods to control my weight.

I knew it was weird. I knew something was wrong. I kept losing weight and I kept making more and more restrictions.

Every time I wasn't allowed to do something I ate one apple slice less, every time I was sad I decided to throw my food in the toilet. I didn't realise how I slipped back into old habits.

Habits I thought were just routine restrictions from the orphanage. „No, you ate enough already. No one wants to adopt a fat girl." It was their favourite phrase.

I brushed it off, not wanting to elaborate further onto that topic. "I'm fine, Ray. Just been busy, I guess. Anyway, can we focus on this move? I'm still having trouble with it."

He let it go, thankfully, and we moved on with the session. After we finished, I headed to my room, feeling a bit off. A hot shower seemed like the perfect remedy. As the warm water cascaded over me, I let my mind wander, trying to push away the nagging thoughts about the appointment.

After my shower, I stood in front of the mirror, combing my hair. My eyes looked bigger, almost hollow, and my bones were more visible than they had been in a long time. A wave of self-doubt washed over me. What was I doing wrong? I had more food available here than I ever did when I was on my own, yet I seemed to be losing weight. I controlled what I ate, but I still ate. I bit my lip, staring at my reflection. The person in the mirror looked nothing like me. She looked like a dark shadow was eating her from the inside.

"Am I really that important?" I whispered to myself. I have a bodyguard, a family, friends, and I don't even work. I don't deserve this.

Shaking my head to dispel the dark thoughts, I washed my face, but when I looked up, I couldn't see my face anymore. Only black fog.

Panic surged through me, and I quickly left the bathroom, throwing on a cozy outfit to find some comfort. I needed to get away from that mirror. From this room. I don't want to be alone.