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house had left. There was no Ethel waiting in the kitchen, a twinkle in her eyes and a ready “Miss Lazybones” on her lips.
     
                  The house was silent.
     
                  I knew if this was where I was going to be living until I achieved my revenge, I would eventually have to face the living room. I had thought about moving out into a hotel for a bit. I certainly had the money to reserve a whole floor if I wanted to.
     
                  But there was something right in staying in the house. This is where they did me wrong. And so this is where I would stay and plot.
     
                  But as I walked down the hallway, literally only a step or two away from the living room entry, I stopped. The blood rushed against my ears and I felt like I was drowning in the sea. Taking in a breath, not deep enough though since my lungs felt like they would collapse, I quickly stepped into the room.
     
                  Immediately the dull smell of iron hit my nose. Someone had tried to clean up the blood. Stepping gently as if I’d wake up the ghosts of the room, I walked closer towards the couch and coffee table.
     
    The oversized coffee table had been a medium dark brown. Now a large patch of darkness stained the middle of the table. Clearly my mom’s blood had soaked in too far for removal.
     
    The leather recliner my father had died on was relatively clean. He hadn’t left much of a mess. Below by the feet of the chair were some brown drops of dried blood, probably from my father coughing it up.
     
    And there on the opposite end was the wall I had been propped up against right before I had died.
     
    How many people could say they experienced this—walking back to the site of your murder?
     
    I didn’t step any closer. The entire area was still stained with blood— my blood—but it was clear someone had tried to clean it up. I imagined Ethel on her hands and knees scrubbing while crying over the loss of the girl she had practically raised.
     
    It was hard but I had needed to see this. This is what would fuel me. I remembered fighting back against the men, trying to hit them with all that I could. But I had lost. And in my failure, my mom had been raped and murdered, my father shot.
     
    I would not fail this time.
     
    I would not let them die without being avenged.
     
    But now, as I stood in front of the steaming bathroom mirror, my body shook uncontrollably.
     
    I wasn’t scared…exactly. Or maybe I was. It was hard to think that I would be in the same room as someone who had successfully murdered me. Liam was right, I wanted revenge. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.
     
    I ran a finger lightly down between my full breasts, pulled up high by my bra. I had always been quite slender. That had probably only added to my downfall. How could I throw a devastating punch with these spaghetti arms? How could I save anyone?
     
    And if I had failed before, how could I really succeed this time around?
     
    Liam’s green eyes flashed in my mind.
     
    He had said he would help me. But could I really trust the word of a demon? How did I know he wasn’t planning to just eat my soul in the next minute? What difference did it make for him if I got my revenge or not?
     
    I knew I should be showering. The hot water was still steaming up the room. I knew I should be making myself up, dressing the part, so I could head out to the Senator’s dinner.
     
    But this was just so surreal .
     
    Although my body was whole, I still remembered every burning touch, every painful break from that fateful night. I could look in the mirror all I wanted at my flawless body but all I saw was the echoes of every bruise and break.
     
    Knock knock!
     
    I nearly jumped in surprise at the sound. But before I could say anything, the bathroom door opened. I gasped as Liam stepped in, dressed in dark black dress slacks and a loosely buttoned white shirt, his sleeves