Eleanor stood in the center of her room, surveying the damage she had caused earlier.
Broken shards of the vase she had smashed still littered the floor, and books lay scattered across the carpet.
She sighed, crouching down to pick up the pieces. Her movements were quick but mechanical, her mind replaying the revelation over and over again.
After cleaning, she stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded down her body, but it did little to wash away what was going on within her.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she stepped out, wiping the fog from the mirror.
Her reflection startled her—red, swollen eyes stared back at her, betraying the hours she had spent crying.
"This won't do," she muttered.
Then she sat at her dressing table, pulling out her makeup kit. Foundation was applied with precision, concealing the redness and puffiness.
