Vitamin Z

The supplements rattled in her purse — a cocktail of vitamin D, B-complex, and something labeled 'radiance support' that cost more than her monthly electric bill. Elena swallowed them dry with hotel lobby coffee, bitter on her tongue. Thirty-two years old and already performing the rituals of someone waiting to die.

Outside, Miami heat pressed against the glass like a lover who wouldn't take no for an answer. The conference had been three days of fluorescent lights and people who shook hands like they were gripping weapons, smiles stretched thin over the desperate hunger of advancement. Elena had stopped noticing when her own smile became weaponized too.

She found herself walking toward the beach, away from the air-conditioned tomb of the Marriott. The palm trees stood like sentinels from another world, their fringed heads bowing in a wind that carried salt and possibility. A woman sat beneath the largest palm, a card table spread before her, patterned scarf covering her hair.

'You look like someone who's forgotten what she's running toward,' the woman said.

Elena sat before she could decide not to. 'How much?'

'Whatever it's worth.' The woman took Elena's hand, her own palm rough and scarred. 'You have a strong lifeline. But here —' her finger traced a downward curve — 'there's a break. A death. Not of the body.' She looked up, eyes dark and knowing. 'Of something that refuses to stay buried.'

The supplements in Elena's purse suddenly felt heavier. 'I'm just tired.'

'You're not tired. You're a zombie, girl. Walking around with your own heart in your hands and wondering why it won't start beating again.' The woman released her hand. 'Whatever you think those pills will fix — they won't.'

Elena walked back to the hotel alone. In her room, she poured the vitamins into the toilet and watched them dissolve, a swirl of artificial color spiraling away. On the balcony, she smoked a cigarette she'd sworn she'd quit and watched the palm tree silhouette against a sky still purple from sunset. Somewhere in that darkness, she thought, something might finally be ready to grow.