Page 187 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

didn't really exist. A gift not to be acknowledged. A wink
between corrupt politicians. She couldn’t even tell Ash.
He’d blow it up twenty different ways.
Greta bent to drink from the bathroom tap before slipping
back inside the bedroom. Ash starfish-sprawled on top of his
blanket, undisturbed by the scene at the door. She climbed
into bed, not ready to be awake in the quiet house by herself.
She thought about sleepovers when they were kids. Ash used

to love the idea of a sleepover until it was actually time to go.
Then he would cling to Diana or Roger. Diana would cajole
him, whisper in his ear, “Go enjoy yourself! Home will always
be here!”
Greta shook her younger self, shouted a message back
through time: Run, run home. Hold on tight. It will disappear.
What remained? Ash. Two children clinging to a buoy in the

middle of an ocean storm.
The phone pinged. Roger. She scrambled for it, accident-
ally bumping it to the floor with a clatter. Ash smacked his
lips and rolled on his side.
A new number. Not Roger, Rachel or Nate. Its been a
few days. Whats going on? Greta stared at the two sentences.
A few days since what? School? Someone who’d noticed she’d
been gone but didn’t know anything else.
Who is this? Greta texted back.

A pause. Priya.
Priya? Really? Greta didn’t know what to tell her. What
was going on? And how much did she want to share with
Priya? Not much, Greta answered.

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