The flies are gone. Only a jewel-colored bird flits here and there, poking at the corpse that used to be a girl—now no more than a human-shaped pile of ash.
No.
I can’t breathe. Can’t speak. I can only gasp and exhale, over and over until my breath becomes a breeze that reaches the Ash Girl. Her remains lift in a swirling gray cloud, floating to the open window and scattering into the world.
Gone.
She’s gone.
The bluebird watches me from its perch on the edge of my desk.
I open my mouth and scream. I scream until my throat bleeds and my lungs collapse, and when I stop, the bird is gone, too.
Sinking down into the chair, I stay in the dusty ruins of the office. Alone.
Time fades.
An eternity goes by.
I still can’t remember her name.
Then—
“I’m sorry.”
Wait.
What was that? Was that a voice?
“Sara?” The name slips out, little more than gravel rattling in my throat.
With some difficulty, I crack an eye open, no more than a slit. A blurry shape swims in front of me. A rectangle. A door?
I’m awake…I think. But I feel like I’m underwater.
When I try to sit up, a lightning bolt of pain tears me in two. The air whooshes from me and I lose myself in a wave of vertigo. A groan vibrates in my ears. That hurts, too.
Fuck. Me.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
There it is again. Muffled. Covered, maybe?
“Sara.” It’s all I can manage to say.
“No, I?—”
I stop listening. Can’t think of anything but getting to that door. Finding her.
Finding her.
Without giving myself time to think, I roll over until my feet are under me. Ignoring the pain in my chest and the scrapingsound behind me, I stumble toward the door like a rogue wrecking ball. Then?—
A violent snap. My ankle catches, twists. Obliterating agony. “Ah, goddammit! Fuck!”
I hit the floor face first. Hard.
A pathetic moan wheezes out of me as I curl up where I lay.