Angelica left Aimee for a while alone. The girl was staring blankly into the room.
She was hardly mute inside, however. As her drifting mind began to refocus, she replayed the rape again from memory, relishing the sweet fragrance of victory over her unstained innocence. It took some time to sort out her feelings and stop the scene from appearing in her head. When it finally disappeared, she slept.
Sometime later, Angelica returned to the room and slumped down on the bed beside her, where they spent the night entwined—happily so.
***
A recent edition of The Journal included the picture of a woman lying against white sheets, with her tawny hair disheveled around her, with scarves at her wrists and ankles and the hint of a smile on her lips. A regular inscrutable Mona Lisa she was, sti
