Free All of These Things by Anna De Mattea

me. And, here, tonight—where everything’s calm and beautiful—I’m attacked and almost raped or even killed.”
    He shudders. Alec leans forward placing his forearms over the tops of his legs.
    “I was too tired and shocked to understand or react. You changed my fate, Alec. You and this drawing. You saved me. Thank you.” I’m practically whispering, and his head turns towards me. He gulps, and I see his eyes widen at my indebtedness as if uncomfortable.
    “I’m glad I was here, Caroline. Do you need anything else?”
    “No, and Sofie wants me up there. Plus, I really have to go and dunk my body in bleach.” My voice quakes, choked with tears.
    “Alright. Sweet dreams, then. I’m here if you need me.”
    “Sweet dreams, Alec.” I raise the furled gift, pressing it against my heart. “I love the drawing. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome, Caroline.”

Chapter Seven
    My eyes flutter open, wishing for the middle of the night instead of early afternoon. Besides a lingering headache, my arms and shoulders are painfully sensitive, and the rest of my body is tender. I close my eyes again to adjust my vision and adapt to the streaming sunlight coming from the master bathroom. It’s fairly dark and quiet in here, and I know Sofie isn’t next to me anymore.
    College kids.
    They were monstrous amateurs cruising the town and causing havoc. But they planned it so well. They watched us gathering outside and selected our house as their pit stop. I summon my muscles to work together, mustering my limbs and head to rise from the cushy, warm bed. Who am I fooling? I’m deprived of energy, but my coherence is urged on by basic logic. A hot bath can relax this tension, although my will is drained by an encumbering headache. I defeat it, walking unsteadily to the main bathroom in the hall.
    My toiletries have marked the space as my personal territory, and it’s perfect because I’ve always admired clawfoot bathtubs. I run hot water from a pretty, vintage-semblance faucet and gather my essentials for relaxation. Its Sofie’s recipe—lavender seeds, rose and almond oils. I gully out a pressing bladder as I wait for the tub to fill, doing away with my nightwear for a short, terrycloth robe.
    Pushing the memories to the far end of my mind, I manage through the motions. Recalling the break-in stirs further anxiety and panic. The events induce a gag, making me retch. I’m overcome by the disgusting reality that I was assaulted, and I wish the scenes replaying in my head are from some cop show. Finally, I’m touched by something else, submerged in a healing cloak of fragrant, liquid heat.
    I close my eyes quickly, but realize I can fall asleep and drown. I’ve never felt restless and numb at once. It’s a drowsy state of confusion, and my eyelids are heavy. It’s difficult to stay awake.
    “Shit. Caroline! You scared me.”
    What the hell.
    “I came up to check on you, but you were gone. Why didn’t you come down before taking a bath?” Sofie’s reprimanding voice is a jolt nudging me back to the present.
    “I don’t know. I figured you were somewhere downstairs. I heard clamouring from the kitchen and... I don’t know, Sofie. I just needed a bath.”
    “But you showered just before coming to bed.”
    Is there a water ration I’m unaware of?
    “So? I need a bath. I’m sore, and I still feel disgusting.”
    She moseys over to my side and sits on a plush bath rug. This was not what I had in mind. I haven’t treated the water with bubble bath, and I’m completely exposed. It’s spoiling my attempt for calm, and now I’m twitchy and agitated.
    “Please, Sofie. Do you mind? I need privacy. Could you go? I’m sorry I didn’t come down, but I’ll be there soon.”
    Oh, she is absolutely exasperating.
    It’s as though I didn’t say a word because Sofia-Marie makes herself more comfortable.
    “ Sofie . Out!”
    “Oh, you’re such a baby. God, you can be such a prude. Fine! I’ll go. But at least you’re