Free The Invisibles by Cecilia Galante Page A

said. “I got that horrible bump shaved all the way down. Do you like it?” She turned to one side and threw her shoulders back. “What do you think? My boyfriend, Liam, says it makes me look at least ten years younger. Do you agree?”
    Nora studied Monica’s new nose again. How could the shape of someone’s nose make them look younger? Then again, maybe she was right. Now that it was smaller, Monica’s face did havea more delicate look to it. Or was it just that there was less of her now? The entire scenario left her anxious and amazed, all at the same time. “You’re so . . . beautiful,” she said. “Holy cow, Monica.”
    Monica laughed again, delighted. “Well, you can buy anything these days. Even looks. You know that.”
    Nora blinked, her anxiety rising again. How much of the Monica she used to know was gone now, replaced by this new, fake veneer? What else about her had undergone such transformation?
    â€œOzzie’s flight should be here in about an hour.” Monica slung a brown alligator bag over one shoulder. A large gold buckle gleamed on the front. “I was just on my way to baggage claim when I saw that your flight had landed, so I scooted on over to see if I could catch you.” She squeezed Nora’s arm. “I love your outfit. Especially your sneakers. They’re great. And so practical! I never dress comfortably for flights, and then I always regret it. My feet are killing me.” Her eyes were shining despite the complaint. “Oh my goodness, can you believe we’re all going to be together again? After all this time? You, me, Ozzie, and Grace?”
    â€œI know.” Nora smiled and nodded.
    Monica tucked a wedge of hair behind an ear as they started walking. “We’re supposed to refer to Grace as Petal now, did you know that?”
    â€œYes. Ozzie said something about that.”
    â€œShe’s not even responding to the name Grace anymore, apparently.” Monica’s line-free face darkened. “God. We probably should’ve come a lot earlier.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t know.” Nora trotted a little to keep up. “Imean, I had no idea about anything that was going on with her. Did you?”
    â€œI knew she had a miscarriage,” Monica said. “But that was a while ago, a few years after she graduated from art school. She called me one night to tell me about it. She was a wreck. Actually, I think she was drunk. I talked to her for a long time, but I don’t think anything really registered. I called a bunch of times after that, but she never returned my calls. I didn’t even know she’d finally had a baby.”
    Nora felt a pang as she listened to Monica speak. Had Grace called Ozzie too over the years? And if so, why had she been excluded? Why hadn’t Grace called her?
    She followed Monica to the escalator, settling in on the step behind her as the machine made its steady ascent to the second floor. Above them, neon signs advertising coffee and cinnamon buns blinked on and off, and a green Starbucks sign shone like an emerald in the distance. Nora’s stomach growled as she realized that she hadn’t eaten yet.
    â€œDid you know about the . . .” Nora let her voice drift off, unable to meet Monica’s eyes. “What she did, I mean,” she finished. “Over the summer?”
    Monica stepped off the escalator. She adjusted the brown leather strap over her shoulder and winced before answering. “Ozzie told me when she called. I just . . . I still can’t believe it. Why wouldn’t she have reached out first?” She looked pained, as if her stomach hurt. “To us, I mean. To any of us?”
    â€œMaybe she didn’t think she could,” Nora said.
    â€œYou really think so?” Monica fiddled with the army of gold bracelets, aligning them just so along her thin wrist. “I know it’sbeen a long time, but Grace of