Falling Into Us
“I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “Nell? What—w-what are you doing?”
She leaped up, clapping a wad of paper towel against her wrist. She stormed past me and closed the door, locking it, and returning to her place on the bed. She didn’t look at me as she held the paper towel to the line of blood. I sat beside her on the bed. She had a kit. An empty tampon box held a packet of razors, antiseptic wipes, Band-aids. She took the box from me, ripped open a wipe, and slid the razor through it, folded the wipe, and rubbed it over her arm, then fitted a Band-aid over the small incision she’d made. She hadn’t looked at me, hadn’t spoken to me. She tossed the wipe, the empty packet, and the Band-aid wrapper into a plastic Meijer bag from underneath her bed, filled with these same discarded items. She tied up the bag and stuffed it deep into her purse, clearly planning to throw it away someplace where it wouldn’t draw notice.
“Nell?” She sighed. “What, Becca?”
“What…what is this?
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