Jane Doe(75)

I get my hair dyed back to its usual midnight brown at a very expensive salon. I have it cut into a sleek shoulder-length bob with a straight line of bangs that fall just to my eyebrows. I go shopping to buy tight skirts and knee-high boots and four shades of red lipstick, each darker and bloodier than the last. I feel almost myself again. Whenever I pass a mirror, I smile and say, “Hello, Jane.”

I’m back.

Even the Hepsworth family might not recognize me if I walked right into their church and said hi. My cat isn’t fooled, though. When I return to the suite after my transformation is complete, she barely glances up from her perch in the window.

But maybe Luke will be more impressed.

It’s been more than a week since we’ve spoken. He probably thinks I’ve left the country. Will he be happy to see me? Will he be happy I’ve stayed?

Yes. Yes, I’m sure he will.

I retrieve the $1,200 watch I bought him from the room’s safe. I wrap it in shimmery gold paper and tuck it into my purse, then smooth down my hair and set off to see him.

If I can make him love me, if I can make him want me to stay, then I’ll do my very best to love him back.





CHAPTER 50

“I don’t get it.” I peek over the crowd of shoulders to get another look at the squishy brown face. “Is she cute?”

“Yes!” Luke assures me. “She’s gorgeous! She’s perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s squashed beyond all help.”

He covers his mouth with a hand to hide his laughter. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. My niece is definitely the most beautiful newborn in the world.”

“Sure, that may be fair. They’re all really weird-looking.”

Luke holds his phone high to take another picture.

Three of Isaiah’s sisters have held the baby, and now it’s Uncle Luke’s turn. I take his phone from him so I can snap a dozen pictures of him with his first niece. I still don’t think she’s cute, but Luke is definitely adorable. The whole crowd is oohing and aahing over his crooked grin and tear-filled eyes.

He looks down at tiny Holly, and suddenly her eyes open a little and she focuses on his face. The family swoons and a dozen cameras click. Luke beams at her. “Look at that. She likes me. Hello, little Holly. Hello.”

Once she closes her eyes again, he gestures toward me and I shake my head. I don’t want to hold the baby, so he hands Holly to one of Isaiah’s brothers.

“Sorry,” he says as he wipes tears from his cheek. “I’m a mess.” I shake my head. I don’t understand babies, but this is like the touching end of a TV season, and I understand that. This is the wrap-up that brings the whole cast together and makes the viewer sigh.

It’s a happy ending. Even for me.

I have a place here now. I have Luke’s family. His friends. It’s more than I’ve ever had before.

I’d say I can be myself with Luke, but I’m still not quite sure what my self is. Sometimes I feel real, but mostly I feel like I’m just enjoying a good TV show.

That’s okay, though. That’s enough for now. I often felt the same way with Meg. I can make this work. I love Luke. And I’m learning to take care of him in my own way.

I still keep an eye on Steven, of course. Not literally. The camera batteries ran out a month after I blew his world to smithereens.

I wasn’t checking in often at that point, but I knew he still hadn’t spoken to his father, and his brother had cut him off too. The family is broken apart and divided. Pastor Hepsworth has lost his firstborn son. And his wife. And his authority. Steven has lost his hero and his career and everything he held dear in the world.

In January he sold his house and moved to Omaha, Nebraska. He’s an assistant manager at a fast-food place there. He’ll work his way up to manager, I’m sure, and he’ll be a big man in a little world again. But he’ll never, ever be the same. He’ll never feel safe.

Good.

The church closed for two months and then reopened under the guidance of one of the other deacons. It has a new name and a new sign, and any mention of the Hepsworth family has been wiped from the website and newsletter.

Just like me, they never existed.

When I drive by on Sunday mornings, the church parking lot isn’t nearly as full as it used to be. I hope every time someone mentions the weakness of women, the parishioners all picture the behavior of the Hepsworth men. I hope they imagine it in great detail.

Rhonda filed for divorce. It’s not final yet, but she moved to Florida already.

Pastor Hepsworth is working at a call center. He goes by plain old Robert now. I bet no one calls him “Daddy” anymore either.

None of them are dead, so I’d say they’re all just fine. They’re better off than Meg, aren’t they?

Today is February seventeenth. It’s been a full year since she died. My grief has grown more muffled, finally. These days I only feel it when I take it out to remember her.

Someday soon I think it might leave forever, but I’m spending the day with Luke’s family, the way I should have spent time with hers, so tonight I’ll go home to the condo I rent near Luke’s place and I’ll watch my videos. I’ll watch myself with Steven. I’ll play over and over the scene of him lying naked and vulnerable under my blade and I’ll let myself imagine that I killed him then. It helps the sorrow.