Chicago, Ill. August 17th, 1947
Boris was hitting her again. Just like every other time, he was careful to only hit her where it wouldn't show. Her arms....she have to wear her opera gloves tonight. She'd learned not to fight back after the second time. She didn't even cry very much anymore. The tears and the puffy eyes were hard to conceal from the audience.
"You sing best tonight," he said in that thick Russian accent of his. "Many Mafia in audience tonight. Good business." The big man stepped away and got his jacket from the wall. "Wear red dress" he ordered before opening the door to the dressing room and walking in to the hall. "Twenty minutes" was the last thing he said before closing the door again.
Paula never said a word. She knew that anything she said would only make Boris angry at her....or at least give him the excuse to be angry.
She felt used up....dead inside. She went through the motions of getting dressed and preparing for the show. There wasn't anything else she could do.
Boris was hitting her again. Just like every other time, he was careful to only hit her where it wouldn't show. Her arms....she have to wear her opera gloves tonight. She'd learned not to fight back after the second time. She didn't even cry very much anymore. The tears and the puffy eyes were hard to conceal from the audience.
"You sing best tonight," he said in that thick Russian accent of his. "Many Mafia in audience tonight. Good business." The big man stepped away and got his jacket from the wall. "Wear red dress" he ordered before opening the door to the dressing room and walking in to the hall. "Twenty minutes" was the last thing he said before closing the door again.
Paula never said a word. She knew that anything she said would only make Boris angry at her....or at least give him the excuse to be angry.
She felt used up....dead inside. She went through the motions of getting dressed and preparing for the show. There wasn't anything else she could do.