I knock on the door. “Mr. Gretzky… am I supposed to put on makeup?”

There is a pause and I’m sure I hear him swear. “Yes, Miss Whitehall.”

I feel bad for him. Whatever his normal job is, he really hates dealing with me. I learned a lot about that from Theodore and Kurt.

Kurt… I picture his body, blank-faced and bloody on the plastic tarp. Whatever happens, I will not lose my virginity to Bobby. It doesn’t matter that Kurt was creepy and bad at his job and sold me out to Eli. He didn’t deserve to die. But then I think of Bobby kissing me in my cage, his arms around me. I think of the way he looked at me when he talked about us living together. “Stop it,” I tell myself. “Just stop.”

I’m not very good at makeup. I wasn’t allowed to wear any to school, and it was done for me when our family went to events. I also have no idea who I’m dressing up for and I’m sure they’d all like something different. Bobby definitely likes the ‘girl next door’ look. Doc would want glossy lips and contouring. Eli seems like a guy who’d appreciate glamor—red lips, and fake lashes. Adriano…

I remember him staring at me through my cage, the lamplight carving shadows into his scarred face. You’re not worth raping. The mascara I’m holding skitters out of my hand and onto the tiles.

“Miss Whitehall?”

“Coming,” I yell, my voice much higher than usual.

I try for subtle, tiny dabs of foundation and peachy eye shadow like I had at my wedding. At the last minute, I add glossy lips and lots of mascara. I don’t know if it looks good or like a little girl raided her mom’s makeup bag, but you can tell I tried.

I walk over to the lingerie. I’ve been avoiding looking at it until now. I pull everything on with my back to the mirror. It takes ages to attach the straps hanging from the pink belt to my stockings. As soon as I get one on, another pops off.

Mr. Gretzky knocks on the door. “We need to get moving.”

I manage to attach the last clip then glance at the mirror. My mouth falls open. I look… I don’t know how I look. The bright pink bra and panties bring out the ivory notes of my skin. You can see my nipples through the sheer material and the line of my… down there. But it doesn’t look tacky, it looks subtle and kind of pretty.

Whoever picked out the underwear has great taste.

I pile my hair onto my head and turn, studying the lines of my body. Grown-up. That’s how I look. Grown-up and sexy. I shake my ass in the mirror and smile. What are the guys going to say when they…

I wince. What is wrong with me? This isn’t a game. This is my life. What happens when I leave this room decides my future and I’m prancing around in my underwear like a moron. Doc’s right. I’m like a Disney girl, rebelling against her stage mom. I release my hair and vow to stay focused.