For five straight minutes, Maia held a breast that wasn’t there. She cupped her hand where her left breast should be and stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
As she cradled it, she reached into that space and touched the skin with her right hand. Her fingertips brushed the withered stump of her breast and worked their way in small circles to where her nipple used to be.
The scar was dappled and hard, like old leather, but around it her skin was translucent and felt like it would puncture if pressed too hard. She switched over to her right breast and explored it just as carefully as the one that had been removed.
Satisfied, Maia glanced at the woman stood before her in the full length mirror, before she dressed in the clothes that were laid out on the bed next to her packed open suitcase: cotton knickers, left-side padded bra, silk stockings, and a late-afternoon black taffeta cocktail dress that alone cost more than the hotel servants earned in a …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Chapter 23 by James Garside to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.