After I finished my run, I went to take a shower, feeling less nerve-racked with a five-mile run behind me.  Then, there it was, standing out like a monster sore against the black fabric of the wetsuit.  A small clump of blonde hair caught in the zipper.  I didn’t think anything about it last night when the zipper only went half way down, I just shimmied out of the suit and tossed the thing aside.  My stomach twisted and nearly leapt into my throat as I knelt down to dislodge the hair, positive that it wasn’t there until yesterday.

The possibility of what this meant sent a shiver rattling down my spine.  I collected the suit and hair and went upstairs to Evie’s room.  She hollered for me to enter the open door before I even knocked.  She was facing away from me, busy sewing in front of the bay window across the room.

“How’d you know I was there?”  I asked, walking towards her.

She paused for a second to swivel around in her chair and look at me.  “I saw you in the mirror, silly.”

“Oh, right,” I said, feeling stupid that I forgot about the three-way mirror in the corner.  “I just came up to return your wetsuit and thank you for letting me borrow it.”

It wasn’t at all what my only intention.  I wanted to see her reaction when she saw the hair.  If what I saw yesterday really happened, then Evie knew about it, and I hoped that it would show.  I held the wetsuit in front of me, zipper-side up.  “The zipper is stuck,” I said, tugging at it to direct her eyes to the hair.  I watched, anticipating a reaction that would give her away.  She looked at it for a second, then to me.

 

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