Bedroom Games

Clara

I sat at the dining table staring at the morning paper as if the photo might jump out and point at me. They had blurred the woman’s face, but the peach dress was clear. My fingers tightened on the edge of the paper. What if someone recognized me? This was like a target painted on my back.

I pushed the newspaper away as though it were contagious and rested my forehead on my arms. I let out a