Chapter 1
The Voice
Everyone says I should stop coming here.
Mom stopped asking where I go. That's worse than if she yelled.
A week now. The boot's still where they found it. No one's touched it.
No one's looking anymore. Just me.
Bare skin. Otherwise the ground hears nothing.
It took me three days to stop telling myself I was imagining it.
And I didn't want to know what it remembers.
Cold mud. Then — like pressing your ear to a wall and hearing someone breathe on the other side.
EmilYellow chin. You like butter.
LivIdiot.
He laughed with his whole face. Nine years old and afraid of nothing.
That's how it was. Before.
…Liv…
The ground says my name. With his mouth.
Emil?…you came too late.
Those are his words. Not his voice.
Emil never said "too late." Emil said "hurry up, chicken."
Which memory is his? Which is mine?
For a second I remember a summer I never lived.
Did he hear me too?
I pulled my hand back like off a hot stove. The forest stayed. Waiting.
— CLICK — static —
The camera refuses. Like always. The screen won't remember what I see.
Emil is nine. The voice wasn't.
What was it that answered?