Aksana Smiles

I shoot up from beneath the bathwater, gasping.

It can't be.

I climb out of the tub, trying not to slip on the water pooled on the floor. The footprints of muddy, bare feet trail across the tile and into the house.

A slender figure stands at the end of the hall, barely visible in the moonlight.

It is.

Aksana, with the glowing smile. The waitress who sidestepped suspicion, thinking it impolite.

She fought harder than the other girls.

The marks on her wrists are the same. But, now her smile is dark, dirty, broken. Her grin widens.

I deserve-