A Disappearing by Salena Casha

At twenty, she shaved her head to see what he might have looked like; her mother had wondered about the same aloud when she thought Marissa couldn’t hear. Her transformation gave him substance, no longer just a ball of hair and fingernails she’d swallowed whole in the womb. Penitential, living for him this way. Mostly, she liked the way her mother’s fingers feathered over her scalp, whispering Martin into her stubble like an incantation.

Each day, he chose new favourite teas and avoided mirrors, burying her deep. After all, he told himself; he wasn’t the one who’d eaten someone alive.