Aida saw how the poor girl tried to hide the scars: the cake makeup, the masking hands, the long hair and baseball cap. The edges of the puzzle pieces purple and crudely lined. Her mouth crooked, but somehow sweet. She smiled painfully at Aida. Pushed an envelope of money across the sticky surface of the café table. The envelope was not thick; it was all that the scarred woman had left. The restaurant was abandoned. The waitress hovered around them, refilled their mugs, nodded gamely at Bethany. Said to her, “These are on me.” Then leaned into the table, wiped the surface with her bleachy rag and said, “There’s a way out. Always is. I been there too. Don’t let him beat you like that. You’ll be dead inside a year by the look of it.” Some of the fortitude seemed to leak out of Bethany and she deflated slightly, set her mug down, and readjusted the bill of her cap. She looked up at the waitress and said, “God bless you.” But Aida could see that she didn’t believe in God at all, that her eyes contained only anger and fear.
What do You think about In Western Counties (2014)?
