The woman was pleased with how fast she was able to sell his clothes, his shoes, and every piece of him that reminded her of him. The bruises had already started to fade. She looked different too—unrecognizable in her boyish hair and leather jacket.
She walked out of the flat with two suitcases. She had five after her first failed relationship. Now, she knew better. Still, she’ll find the one for her. Damn fakers.
Days later, a wife washing her husband’s secondhand backpack would find a hand sewn inside. The seller would be untraceable.
She was good at starting over.