Avoidance was futile, especially since she couldn’t escape it.
Winifred Dawson changed into a set of clean clothes, discarding her worn ones into a trash bag. The clock on the wall showed it was already three in the morning.
She opened the door, tossed the bag of clothes into the garbage bin downstairs, and hailed a cab on the street to head to a nearby mobile phone store.
The physical pain was a stark reminder of the violence Winifred Dawson had endured the previous night. She felt extremely uneasy and shrunk into a corner of the cab, clutching the seat belt tightly across her chest.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, a look Winifred caught.
It was an ordinary look, but Winifred couldn’t help but imagine otherwise, even hallucinating that some scandalous secret of hers was being publicly exposed.
The driver glanced at her and didn’t think much of it. He simply found the woman sitting behind him odd. It was a hot day, yet she was dressed in a turtleneck sweater and a coat over it, with jeans covering her from head to toe. She was wrapped up tightly-could she be ill? Moreover, her complexion was unnaturally pale.
Initially reluctant to pry, the driver, noting her severe trembling, politely asked, “Miss, are you ill? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
Startled by the sudden voice, Winifred Dawson’s body stiffened. “I… I’m fine… No need for a hospital.” Her voice was already unpleasant to hear, now even more hoarse, hardly intelligible unless listened to closely.
Winifred Dawson’s head felt feverish, likely a cold caught during her earlier shower. Opening the car window, the cold air hit her face sharply. It was raining outside, and she couldn’t tell if the moisture on her face was her own tears or the rain.
Seeing her refusal, the driver said no more, focusing on the road ahead. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of Winifred Dawson’s anguished expressions and speculated that she was another love-tormented soul out late at night.
Upon reaching the mall, Winifred Dawson paid the cab fare. Her legs still ached terribly. Moving too hastily, she nearly fell while getting out.
The driver exclaimed in shock, “Are you really okay?”
Winifred still shook her head. She knew the driver meant well, but at that moment, she couldn’t muster any gratitude. The fact that the driver was a man made her somewhat fearful of him; she just wanted to leave the cab quickly.
She steadied herself and entered the mall, which was open 24 hours. She went to a mobile phone store, bought a phone identical to her previous one, and replaced her SIM card.
As soon as she inserted the card, several missed calls and messages popped up, all from Garrison Reeves. Winifred Dawson felt a surge of bitterness; tears uncontrollably fell. Not wanting to be seen by strangers, she quickly left the phone store with her head down.
She went to the restroom, locked herself in a stall, and returned Garrison Reeves’ call. He answered almost immediately, his voice anxious through the phone.
“Winifred.”
“Garrison Reeves,” Winifred’s voice was hoarse, tinged with a hint of tears.
Even that slight change was detected by Garrison Reeves: “Are you crying? What’s wrong?”
Winifred moved the phone away, looked up, took a deep breath, and swallowed, trying to normalize her voice, “I’m not crying, just caught a bit of a cold.”
“Why do you feel like you’ve caught a cold? Did you go to the hospital to get some medicine?”
“I did,” Winifred Dawson replied with a forced smile. “It’s just that the weather is too hot, and I set the air conditioning too low. Last night, I didn’t cover my stomach while sleeping, and I woke up with a stuffy nose.”
“You see, I leave for just one day, and you’re already sick and getting medicine. Who promised me before I left that they would take good care of themselves?” Garrison Reeves’s voice carried a tone of playful reproach mixed with affection.
“I’m sorry,” Winifred Dawson croaked, her voice hoarse.
“Why are you apologizing to me?” Garrison Reeves, sensing something was off with Winifred Dawson’s mood and unsure of her current state, softened his voice to comfort her. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Just stay in bed and rest at home, take your medicine on time. By the way… I called you several times tonight, but couldn’t get through, and you didn’t reply to my texts. Do you know how worried I was?”
“My phone fell into water and broke. I just bought a new one and got a new SIM card.”
“What time is it? You’re still outside?”
“Yes.”
“You…,” Garrison Reeves sighed heavily, at a loss for words. He was reluctant to scold her.
“It’s so late and you’re out alone. Do you know how dangerous that is? If your phone was broken, you could have waited until daylight to buy a new one. What if something happened to you? Think about how worried and scared I would be. Now hurry back home and send me a text when you arrive.”
“Yes, I know. I was planning to wait until daylight to buy a new phone, but I had a nightmare last night and woke up scared. I was afraid you’d try to call and wouldn’t be able to reach me, and that you’d worry, so I went out to buy a phone.” Winifred Dawson did not want to lie to Garrison Reeves, but felt she had no choice.
Lying to Garrison Reeves put Winifred Dawson under immense pressure. Once one lie was told, a second one would follow to cover the first.
Such a feeble lie, only Garrison Reeves would believe. The more he believed her, the more guilty Winifred Dawson felt. She struggled internally, wanting to tell Garrison Reeves about what happened that night, but she dared not. She feared the disappointed look he might give her, feared he might find her dirty, feared he might not want her anymore.
A bitter smile touched Winifred Dawson’s lips. She had endured so much, and just when life was improving, this sordid incident occurred. She didn’t even dare call the police, and had no one to talk to.
“Garrison Reeves, if there’s nothing else, I’m going to hang up now. I’m heading home and will text you when I get there. I’m not far from home.”
“Take a taxi back, and send me the license plate number. Don’t walk home alone at night.”
“I know… don’t worry about me.”
After hanging up, Winifred Dawson leaned against the bathroom wall for a while, her throat aching not from a cold, but from crying, under a stranger.
Shame and disgust overwhelmed her, causing a physical urge to vomit. She braced herself against the wall and retched over the toilet.
She hadn’t eaten anything that evening; there was nothing solid to vomit, only the acidic taste of bile. The cold sweat and tears mingled and dripped from her jaw as she composed herself. Winifred Dawson lowered her head and tugged at the collar of her sweater, burying half her face in its folds.
Fortunately, the restroom was empty at this time; otherwise, she might have received more strange looks.
After taking a taxi home, Winifred Dawson sent Garrison Reeves a voice message, to which he quickly responded with a text.
She didn’t check it, feeling a growing resistance inside her, feeling sorry for Garrison Reeves, and developing an urge to escape.