She takes him by the hand as they run through the woods. They hop on boulders and stones on the way to get out of the mud. After a few minutes, they reach a small lean-to made of scrap metal and branches. In it, she has a small dinner plate with about a dozen bars of lemon tarts. Hungry, Zak quickly devours a few.539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfA0ANQE6Ba
“Hey, what’s your name?” he asks.539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSlYMBkx6S5
“It’s Leah,” she smiles, “Leah Storm.”539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj6DC46Ke5P
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKHqiONHMNl
The memory fades out. He stands still on the road breathless. Without a second thought, he bursts into the woods, letting his feet guide him to the fort. It is pure muscle memory that lets him run to the fort with ease, letting him know which boulders to step on and which will make him slip. 539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKG6UlNI0Xz
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6wa0FFY84r
The fort, now dilapidated and worn, has just enough space for him to sit in. He crawls in it and his mind floods with memories. He remembers laughter, yelling, adventures. He remembers lantern-lit campfire stories, and dirty jokes told with blushed faces. He remembers a summer full of happiness. Even more confused than ever, he walks back to his bike and rides home. The thought in his mind disturbs him. Why do we have the same last name?539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ14QTHkyWiu
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2bFOfoMfyd
For a few days after, he sits in his room and dives into his memories, desperate for clues. He remembers that Leah loves deserts; her mother would pack them fresh in her picnic basket every day. He remembers Leah’s mother, kind and patient, when Leah fell into a burdock bush and she had to gently brush them out of Leah’s hair for hours. He remembers more and more of them every day. Frustrated, he ends up falling asleep at the end of the day. He dreams of lemon tarts and a girl with freckles like constellations in a clear sky.539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Anvcl2Tos
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgvT4ZekUu0
Zak isn’t quite sure how to act at home anymore. What does he do, now that he knows his mother’s lying to him? What do they talk about? He can’t remember anything they’ve ever done together; still, she’s never gotten upset at him for anything other than the topic of Leah. Even so, with nothing to do in the living room, he spends most of his time immersed in his book, his thoughts, or his own paranoia. Lately, he’s been hearing whispers, arguments. 539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbHvkKjiG1t
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2CY2mPfNBY
“What do you mean, they found out? I thought you had an excuse to take them!” a whisper accuses.539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvkbgfdavpR
“They didn’t ‘find out’ find out, they’re just questioning my motives because they think I was overprescribing her.”539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOY5lwOs5FA
“Well what if they question her? She may be absolutely crazy but she’s sane enough to know what she has and hasn’t been taking! You’ve been careless, dear.”539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiisBi1FcWr
“They just chalked it up to a simple human error. Don’t worry, no one suspects a thing.”539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSsnHGdx0Or
“That better be the case, or else you will go down, and you’ll go down alone.”539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzktGoLXmg6
Zak begins to consider the possibilities of the argument. Is dad taking drugs? He doesn’t seem like that kind of person. He could be selling them; that’s a possibility. He’s a pharmacist so he’s got access to any drug imaginable. Maybe he’s stealing drugs for mother? It would make more sense than dad taking them. For now, he can’t quite say for sure.539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVbothLjDr8
539Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzDzrbdzbHs
As a new day rolls by, Zak climbs out of bed and decides to check Leah’s house today for clues. Biking to her house is familiar and sweet. He holds memories of running down this street, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air as the house nears. He puts down his kickstand by the mailbox and walks up the gravel driveway, expecting to see a small white house with the windows open. He expects to hear Leah’s mother beckon him in with the promise of dinner. What he sees is a white house empty and abandoned. He hesitantly tries the doorknob. It opens with a click, it’s unlocked. The house is cold. A window was left open, and dried leaves litter the kitchen floor. What’s chilling is that everything seems to be left in the house at a moment’s notice.
Penana
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