AURORA

She sat in a hot tub as a man massaged her joints, the aromatic smell of essential oil enveloping the steamy bathroom.

She moved her head from side to side, listening to the opera singer from the stereo, waiting for the good news of Prim’s death.

Any minute now, Renzo would walk in through that door with her head, or finger or her damn hair, anything to symbolize her painful end.

But first, that Eli.

She picked up the wine glass from the wooden board across the tub, and took ...