“Emory?”
Exhaling hard, she wrenched her gaze up to meet the woman’s imploring gaze as she cooly snapped, “I already told you everything. Repeatedly.”
The corners of her mouth twisted down. “Honey, its okay to be scared to tell the truth.”
She swallowed her retort down, and went back to staring at her hands.
The woman sighed, fidgeting with her hands as Emory set her resolve, and her silence was unrelenting. The seconds bled into minutes. The minutes into hours. Finally, she grabbed the papers, her voice soft. “I will leave you with this question, how does thinking of your family make you feel?”
Snapping her eyes up, she looked at her hawk-ridged nose and her sharp eyes. In this too pale room, to these relentless people. Her nails dug into her skin. “I don’t know.”
Her face crumpled, and she watched as she collected her papers. “You know you can call me any time you need.”
She just stared and watched as she left, leaving her card behind on the table. The door clicked, and Emory loosened a shaky exhale, holding her head in her hands. Sweat collected at the base of her neck, slowly trickling down her skin. The walls seemed too close, the air too hot. It has been sixty days. Sixty days of confusion, of frustration. Tears burned, brimming in her eyes as she shut them, gnashing her teeth together. She had danced along the edges of her mind, diving into that empty carved-out hole in her heart. It wasn’t that she didn’t give them an answer. It just wasn’t the answer they wanted. And with the truth screaming at them in their faces, she was pushed away, deemed unfit, labelled and tossed to the side for examination.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and she snapped up, angrily wiping at her eyes, composing herself as the door swung open, revealing a grumpy looking Lourie. “Well, are you ready?”
Her chair screeched back and she stood, nodding stiffly. The stale smells of must and coffee drifted toward her, and she curled her lips. They left the room behind, entering a poorly lit hallway. Continuing in silence, Emory followed her, her heart dropping with every second. There had been no trace of her, no trace of anything. Naturally, she was put into what she learned was foster care, and Lourie had come into her life. As her foster mother, she was thrown into a repetitive schedule of daily scowls and the dullest life possibly imaginable, waiting as she was dragged through therapy and different medication line ups.
Lourie threw open the door, and the crisp wind hit them like a wall. The tinges of fall bled through the world, and the world was painted in golden and fiery hues. Lourie’s car was parked at the curb and Emory faltered, breathing in the heady scent of change flickering through the air. The city was a kingdom of grey and at the heart of it—a labyrinth of cement. But on the outskirts, a wildness bred gatherings of looming trees, the bulk of dark woods. The leaves crinkled in the breeze, their blazing colors flashing as they were ripped from their branches.
Her pulse thrummed, and she stared, that thread in her gut pulling her into its hold. In her dreams, they bloomed of a place born from fire and ash, of ice and secrets. Of shadows that chased her, called to her. And not only did she feel at peace, but exhilarated, her longing of her dreams and fears fiercely clawing through her barriers of doubt. But always reality crashed into her, and she awoke to blurring images, to the taste of longing in her mouth. But nothing more.
“Are you coming?” She honed her gaze with narrowed eyes at an eye-rolling Lourie. Heat flared through her, and taking a deep breath, she took one step forward. And then another. Closer and closer to the car, her fate sealed with an iron hold. But her heart soared, settling into the darkness of the wilderness, of the unknown, and she knew that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t lost at all.
23
Emory
Six Years Later
The lights in the movie theater dimmed as she shivered, pulling her button-down jacket tighter around her. Grabbing her pop absentmindedly, she took a big gulp, the mixture of overly sweet and fizzing sugar calming her nerves. The previews jumped to life in front of her as his warm voice tickled her ear. “This one looks good!”
Internally groaning, she wanted to roll her eyes at her well-groomed date, Kane. From his sweeping dark hair to his deep eyes and really, really, good sense of humor, she should have been in heaven. The voice of her coworker, Moore, sliced through her mind. “Give him a chance, Em! What’s not to like, super-hot and he reads?”
She scowled wishing her best friend had not convinced her to rip away from her well-loved reading chair and more importantly her routine. First, making a cup of tea, her worn sweat pants and reality bleeding away as she lost herself in realms of fantasy.
The movie started rolling, and settling in, she chased Moore’s voice out of her mind, reassuring herself that she should be happy. Her dating life had been hit and miss, mostly meaning she wasn’t interested. But Kane was nice, a decent guy, and if she was being honest with herself, was not that hard on the eyes. She dug into the popcorn, the salty, buttery masterpiece filling her senses, and she pushed every thought from her mind.
The dark tones of the instruments sprung to life, setting up the perfect set for the horror movie she had chosen to see. Settling in, she was transported as the movie pulled her in, and she was lost. A half hour later she was chewing on her nails as the two main characters booked their weekend away and became lost in the mountains. Kane leaned closer as her heart raced, every instinct screaming in her that this
