Before We Were Innocent by Ella Berman

Author:Ella Berman [Berman, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY

2018

I T TAKES ME LONGER than it should to realize I’m being followed in Whole Foods.

The photographers have been back at Joni’s house for a while now, cameras hanging by their hips as they casually update each other on their wives’ pregnancies or house purchases, and even though I know it was never personal, just the sight of them can bring back a flood of memories so visceral I start to shake. Sometimes I imagine what would happen if they came after me—whether I’d raise my chin stoically as the flashes consumed me once again, or if some long-buried carnal side of me would be awakened and I’d bite back like a ferocious dog. I tell myself that it would be highly unlikely, almost impossible, for any of them to recognize me when they don’t even know I’m here.

And yet, as I browse the grocery store looking for the exact type of tamarind paste Joni has requested, I notice a man around my age staying five steps behind me, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder. I deliberately circle back on myself, striding up and down aisles before looping back once more, but I still can’t seem to lose him. I drop my basket of food in the middle of the floor and leave the store, panic building in my bones. I speed walk across the parking lot in the searing sunshine, pausing a few times only to see if the shadow behind me stops too. By the time I reach the car, my cortisol levels are so high that I think I could bite someone’s ear off if they got too close to me.

“Bess Winter?”

I turn around. The man is now standing less than ten feet away, with a camera on his shoulder, and he’s already filming. The red light blinks as he moves closer, and I hold one hand up to shield my face as I use the other to search for the unfamiliar car key in my bag. In an instant I’m transported back to nine summers earlier, when the news reporters and camera crews circled closer, pretending to be on my side even while they were ripping my life apart. Tissues, wallet, flashlight, dumb citrine crystal from Joni, gum, flashlight again, lip balm, are you fucking kidding me where is this key.

“I heard you were back in town to support your old friend,” the man says, stepping closer still. “Does it feel a little like déjà vu? A reunion tour?”

“Leave me alone,” I hiss as I claw in my bag some more until, finally, my fingers land on the leather key ring, tucked into the deepest fold underneath the pack of tissues. I open the car door, slamming it shut behind me, then I instantly start the engine and release the parking brake. My breath feels ragged, and I know I need to catch it before it devolves into a full-blown panic attack, but more urgently than that, I need to get away from this man.

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