Quiet Lie
Rache picked up her sweater from the table, turned it around and walked past the bedroom, listening for sounds from inside. She held her hand out to knock, but pulled it back, shaking her head and heading into the bathroom.
She turned on the lights, slipped on her clothes, and checked herself in the mirror. Her lipstick was smudged. She fixed it the best she could, leaning close to see that it was all gone.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw into the medicine cabinet, a row of bottles without labels. She opened it carefully, took one of the bottles out, and unscrewed the lid. It was filled with an assortment of pills without brands; different shapes and sizes, textures, different purposes.
She put them back, closed the door to where it had been, and walked back to the table. She picked up her bag from the floor and looked back towards the bedroom, at the closed door. She opened her mouth to speak, but never did.
She found his phone on the table by the door, and started scrolling through. She paused at the entry for Pellier, with the notation “DSR 22 FLY” at the bottom.
She jotted the number down in her own phone, a smile on her face.
“Thank you for the tip,” she said. “I won’t let you down.”
Below it, written in scratchy handwriting, was the word “Redux.” She smiled at it.
“Redux,” she said to herself. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue like ‘Yuri’, does it?”