Sal goes to bed happier than she’s been in a long time. At least, happier than she can remember. She learned more about herself today, met her sister. She doesn’t quite know what to think about Lacey, so high-strung, so intense, but she’s sure there’s a past to that.
Sal chuckles to herself in quiet amusement.
Plus, no migraines. No dizziness. To Sal, it’s a win. She’s healthy. Happy. One foot closer back to herself.
And Luke.
Luke.
Groaning, Sal burrows under the covers. What was she doing with him? Acting like some lovesick, love-starved girl. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. He is her husband, after all. Her stomach dips remembering the look in his eyes. The nearness of him. Tan hands. Muscles like whipped ropes. A touch like kindling.
Sal sighs. Had he wanted her as much as she wanted him? She couldn’t have imagined it.
She’s got a place here with Luke, with this life she’s barely tapped into, and damn if she’s letting it go. After Roy, she needs this. No confines, no cruelty, no lies. She always believed there was something better out there for her, and here it is. Her life in her own hands. She’s gonna hang on to that. She’s gonna hold it close and remember ...
As Sal drifts into sleep, her brain shuts off. Her body floats outside of herself.
She’s back in the plane: a seat, a wall, a ceiling. Like one of those open-air movie sets. She squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for the split-apart to begin. She doesn’t need to see it. She knows what will happen. Her hands grip the armrest as the plane rips through the air, plummeting down, down, down. A guitar pick floats across the ceiling. The airplane window spiderwebs. The ceiling peels away in one tearing chunk. Stars glitter across black sky. She can feel the wind on her face. Shrapnel from the wall pierces her cheek. Then—
A whisper on the wind.
Sal opens her eyes.
Tonight, the dream’s different.
She’s not alone on the plane.
Next to her sits Roy. His smiling face mean and arrogant.
Panic rising, Sal jerks in the seat, but she can’t move. Fear has her in a stranglehold.
“You left me, Jenny,” Roy says. His crooked eye rolls. “My precious, precious Jenny.”
Sal finds her voice. A husk. “No. I’m not Jenny.”
“I told you not to go. I told you if you left, I’d find you. I’d make you pay.”
A scream tears through Sal’s throat, trying to wake up. She wants to wake up.
Please, God, let her wake up.
Roy reaches for her and clamps his hands around her throat.
He squeezes. Sal struggles to breathe. She fights him with all she has. Clawing at his hands, begging for air, but there is none. Prisms of dying light pulse in her vision.
With a soft cry, Sal lets herself go limp and retreats far away inside her mind. Safe. She’s safe there.
Then, strong hands have her, gripping her trembling shoulders, a voice calling to her from high above.
Wake up, Sal.
Wake up.
“Sal, darlin’, wake up. Can you hear me? Open your eyes, Sal.”
Luke straddles his wife on the bed, watching in horror as Sal shakes, her eyes rolled back in her head. The shrill scream she let loose minutes earlier woke the house. Luke, Lacey and Seth were on each other’s heels as they charged to her room. They found Sal like this. Soaked with sweat, her entire body limp and trembling.
Now, Seth hovers over them, at a loss for how to help. “Wake her up, man!”