Hair falling out in clumps after stress.
The results come back instantly.
Telogen effluvium.
Hair loss triggered by severe stress.
Symptoms appear two to three months after the triggering event. Two to three months.Of course.Of course my body waited until I was technically safe to start falling apart.
I close the laptop and stare at the wall.
My brain keeps telling me I’m fine. That I’m overreacting. That I should be grateful I got out. That I’m safe now. But my body doesn’t agree. My body rememberseverything.
I get dressed slowly. Bike shorts. Tank top. The same thing I’ve been wearing on repeat. Like if I keep it simple enough, no one will expect anything from me. If it wasn’t so humid, as much as I used to hate sleeves and leg prisons, I’d hide in sweatpants and a hoodie. But I already feel suffocated enough as it is.
I don’t go downstairs. I can hear him moving around in the kitchen. Cabinets. A mug. The espresso machine. He’s up. Which means I’ll stay here.
Because if I go down there, there’s a chance he’ll look at me like I’m in the way. Or worse—like I’m invisible.
And if he’s in one of his moods, he’ll start asking questions.Where are you going? What are you doing today? Who are you talking to?Like I owe him an explanation for existing. I hate it.
I hate the way I move through this apartment like I don’t belong here.
I hate that I’m grateful and resentful at the same time.
I hate most of all that I can’t tell where one ends and the other starts.
CHAPTER 4
IVY
Later, I pick up my phone and start scrolling. It’s easier than thinking. Easier than sitting in the silence.
I tell myself I’m checking messages. I’m not. I’m looking for something to remind me I still exist outside of this place.
Then I see them.
Spiders.
Elaborate terrarium setups taking over my feed like someone went shopping in a teeny tiny Spirit Halloween and exploded it all over the inside of the large glass case.
I actually smile. I haven’t seen those bougie spiders in ages.
And somehow, they’re doing a better job of making me feel something than anything else has lately.
Without thinking, I type:
Me:
Wow, your spiders are really blowing up my feed today.
I go back to scrolling, reacting to things like my life isn’t quietly unraveling.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes.
I glance down.
And freeze.