Page 31 of The Wrong Heart

“Zephyr. Zephyr. Zephyr.”

My throat tightens up like I’ve coiled a noose around my neck, and my lungs burn, crying out for air. The little boy looks up then, sensing my presence, hearing the pained gasp that must have escaped me, and our eyes lock from a few feet away. Tearstains track down his chubby cheeks, winding through the assortment of freckles like connect-the-dots. There’s a frightening familiarity shining back at me, almost like I’m looking into a mirror, a time machine, and it makes my stomach stagger with unease.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, an apology for something.

Always an apology.

“You’re good. I was just looking for the bathroom.”

He sniffles, squeezing his little legs to his chest as he blinks back tears. “There’s one on the second floor. It smells like old lady perfume.”

“Old lady perfume?”

“Yeah, like my Grams.”

My lips twitch. “What’s your name?”

“Owen.” The boy relaxes a bit, his knees straightening until his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. He looks young, maybe seven or eight. But his eyes tell me he’s seen more than the average kid his age. “What’s your name?”

Hesitation grips me. I don’t like sharing things about myself—even my name. “Parker.”

“Hi, Parker.” A little smile forms on his mouth, something innocent. Something that hasn’t been stolen from him yet. “Will you be back?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”

We share a final exchange before I dip out the doorway and traipse back down the hall to the staircase. I hesitate in the landing, my jaw taut, my teeth clenched together, then fish through my pocket for my phone.

Opening Magnolia’s message, I finally send a reply.

Me:I did see the sunrise. But I don’t think I saw what you saw.

—EIGHT—

Me:QOTD: Pineapple on pizza?This could potentially be the turning point for us, so choose wisely.

Zephyr:It’s trash. That isn’t a matter of choice—only fact. But pickles are a different story.

Me:You passed. I’m just going to sit back and relish in your answer.

Zephyr:Punny.

Me:I think you meant cheesy. *pizza emoji*

Zephyr:Also punny.

Me:The best puns come in pears.

A smile stretches as I curl into the corner of the couch, pulling my ankles up beside me. I nibble my lip, sending him one more message.

Me:Did you see the sunrise this morning?

Zephyr:I did. But I don’t think I saw what you saw.

A sadness sweeps through me, as it always does at his reply. I’ve asked him that question every day for the last ten days, and his response hasn’t changed.

I flinch in place when Leah slides down the couch and peers over my shoulder, trying to sneak a peek at my messages. “Girl, you have that look on your face. Who are you talking to?”

“What look?” I wonder absently, closing out my e-mail app.

---