HEALING THE SCARS

CHAPTER 3

Penelope

2 MONTHS LATER

I've managed to land a job at a popular high-end nightclub. There wasn't much of a choice when the opportunity came; I needed the money to get by.

I keep to myself mostly, quiet and low-key in the busy atmosphere. The only friend I've made here is Mabel, another waitress at the club. She's stunning—tall, slender, with blonde hair that turns heads. Men shower her with tips, and she's studying at the University of Pennsylvania while working here to make ends meet. We became close quickly, bonding after just a week of working together.

Today is our day off, and we've decided to go to the local mall where Mabel plans to get her hair done.

"Penelope, please try to smile. Lighten up a bit; it won't be so boring. It would help if you also got your hair done, you know," Mabel says, trying to cheer me up. I'm lost in my thoughts, worrying about being in public.

"Mabel, no. I love my hair the way it is—thick and curled up. Let's just hurry up. You know I hate being out in public like this. What if someone recognizes me?" I say, my voice tinged with anxiety.

I've shared my past with Mabel, the whole messy story. She sympathizes with me but also worries about Dylan finding me. She understands why I ran from him, even though he's everything most women would want—tall, handsome, built like a god, with dark, thick hair and the physique of Thor. Not to mention, he's incredibly rich and successful.

As we enter the mall, Mabel nudges me discreetly. "Hey, P, I think someone's been following us. Don't turn around, but the guy in the black suit behind us has been there for a while," she whispers.

"Maybe you're overreacting, Mabel. Or maybe it's just one of our creepy regulars from the club," I reply, trying to reassure myself as much as I.

We stroll through the mall, casually browsing through shops and chatting to distract ourselves. Mabel is drawn to a display of glamorous dresses in one store window, and she nudges me playfully.

"Penelope, look at these dresses! Can you imagine yourself in one of these? You'd look stunning," Mabel says with a grin, holding up a shimmering gown against herself in the mirror.

I chuckle softly. "I can't picture myself in something like that. I'm more of a jeans and comfortable top kind of girl," I admit, eyeing a pair of sturdy boots nearby that catch my interest.

"Come on, P, you'd rock it. Sometimes you've got to step out of your comfort zone," Mabel encourages, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

As we move on to the shoe section, Mabel tries on a pair of elegant heels, balancing carefully in front of the mirror. "What do you think?" she asks, turning to me with a playful twirl.

"They're gorgeous, but I'd probably trip over my own feet in those," I reply with a grin, trying on a pair of practical yet stylish boots. It's a welcome distraction from the worries that constantly linger in the back of my mind.

Suddenly, as Mabel pushes open the door to the salon, a strong hand grabs my arm painfully, making me cry out in surprise and pain. "Ouch, what the..." I start to say, but my words trail off as I see who's standing before me.

My life is chaotic once again, just when I thought I had escaped.