She took a few sips from the paper cup she was holding and then licked her lips.

“What do you think?” The bottom of her dress flared as she twirled. She held out her hands and cocked her head to one side and let out a squeal that sent shivers up my spine.

“You like it?” She spun again.

“It’s pretty.”

It wasn’t. It was tight in the wrong places and looked like it was borrowed. Maybe it was. The dress flew over her head and landed on the floor. She stood in front of me in her bra and panties and I couldn’t help but notice the pouch around her belly.

“Maybe this one’s better?” She grabbed a black one from a pile she had on the couch and pulled it over her head. “Can you help?”

She turned her back to me and I struggled with the zipper, but before I could finish, she pulled away and ran her hands down the front as if she was ironing out the wrinkles.

“Better?”

Her bra strap hung over her shoulder but, again, I just nodded. She walked to the counter and poured more of whatever she was drinking. “It needs to be perfect.”

I leaned against the wall. The dress kept falling and she clutched it to her chest but then gave up and just let it hang. She found her purse and dug into its depths like she was searching for treasure. Out came a small perfume sample into which she dipped her pinky. She ran it across her wrist and then pushed her hand toward my face. The assault took me offguard and I must have cringed because, suddenly, she was back rummaging inside her bag.

“Better?”

She stroked more onto her wrist, but before she could get any closer, I nodded my approval.

She smiled and took another sip. “I want it all to look right.”

She picked up a shoe, licked her finger, and cleaned a scuff mark off the toe. I started to back out down the hallway, but she caught me.

“Daryl will be home soon.” She winked.

I imagined Daryl walking in, watching me watching her. She moved over to the mirror, the contents of her paper cup splashing out in an almost perfectly shaped circle. It seeped into the rug, disappearing as if it had never been there. I started to feel dizzy; all I could think about was getting out. I leaned against the wall, backing my way down the hall again, hoping I could make it out without her stopping me.

“Where are you going?”

More than anything, I wanted to run, but instead I came back inside. She walked toward me, still unsteady on her feet. She put her hand on my face and looked at me, but her eyes were wildly unfocused. Her touch sent fiery stabs down my back.

“I told you, Matilda. You are just like me.”