The Girl With No Heart by Marit Reiersgaard

Author:Marit Reiersgaard [Reiersgaard, Marit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gyldendal Norwegian Press
Published: 2019-08-31T22:00:00+00:00

53

The steam from the hot water had condensed on the mirror. Marte got out of the shower, but avoided meeting her own reflection. She was different now. She wrapped a towel around her hair and put on clean clothes, but still did not feel clean enough. Maybe she never would again. In her room, she took her diary out of the bag and put it under the pillow. The memories from the party were there all the time. She could not get rid of the images. She saw how the room was suddenly full of people. Idunn. Had she been angry? Laughter and smells that mixed together. Perfume, smoke, beer, and something else undefined. Fear? Body? And the sharp odor of paint. She could never again take the cap off a marker without this disgusting movie twirling in her head.

She had a frightful thought. Had anyone been filming? Taking photos? Was she the laughingstock of Instagram with hashtag whore? She hadn’t dared to look. It felt as if she was filled with ice water. But then the police probably would have found it by now. Didn’t they confiscate cell phones and such? No one had asked her. The police hadn’t even talked to her. But then she had left the party before they arrived. And now they had arrested Dad. But he couldn’t know anything about what had happened at the party! She tried to push the thought away. She must go downstairs to eat with Mom. Don’t let on. She was good at that.

Her mother did not say a word about her father during dinner, but Marte noticed that the accusations were right under her skin, just waiting for a little crack to seep out. She had seen it before. Back when they were still living under the same roof, and everyone pretended like they were a happy family with no problems. She remembered the arguments she had overheard while she sat quiet as a mouse in her room; the sounds had climbed up the steps and crawled under her door. She knew that the words would leak out later when she and her mother were alone. Maybe while they were watching TV. Then her mother would say something, seemingly nice, about her father. At first. And then she wouldn’t be able to control herself and it would all spill out. And Marte would listen. Nod a few times. Defend her father a few times. The perfect mediator, she thought, already with years of experience.

She took out the diary, set it on the bed, and locked the door before she got under the covers. She paged backward and stopped at a random date in April.

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