Angels Go Naked. Cornelia Nixon
married, have a nice baby. You’ll forget all this.”
“Thank you,” she managed to say before he left the room. And she did feel grateful, suddenly. It wasn’t every day that someone told you what your purpose was, while forgiving you for having failed. He wanted her to know that though she had done something dangerous, illegal, even murderous, it was all right with him. She could still have a nice baby, become one of the nice big-bellied ladies in his waiting room. She tried to picture it, but nothing came in view.
What she could see was this: in a minute, she would walk out to the waiting room, where they’d watch her, knowing what she’d done. And she’d look back, how? A girl with no regrets, relaxed, forgiven, maybe even innocent? It was not a hard performance. She thought she had seen much worse. Sliding off the table, she began to dress for it.
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