ONE SEVEN MONTHS EARLIER
NOVEMBER 5, 2008
April Forrest’s eyes widened. “Ten . . . what happened to your face?”
In the bosom of beauty, ugly comes as a shock. The swelling and bruises across my face made me look like I’d just been attacked by a prison gang. Might as well have been—although it was just one man. In the swamp.
When April left Los Angeles to teach in South Africa for six months, she’d left me, too. We had passed the one-year milestone right before she changed her mind about us, and an ocean and ten thousand miles had...