As she brushes her hair to one side to apply lipstick, Linda's voice resonates in her mind, creating echoes in the walls of head, punching -softly but poignant- in her brain.
Who are you fucking? She asked her last Friday night, when they briefly shared a moment in the same bathroom we are now.
Of course Tara denied being fucking with anyone at all. And it wasn't a complete lie. Tara's recent accomplishments and minor successes at work were not the result of having been having sex with a man of importance, but it wasn't like there wasn't anyone either. It was just that Linda didn't have to know.