For Charlie
The first night, he pretended not to notice.
It wasn't unheard of, crawling into bed alone. She had a tendency to wander at night, and sometimes that wandering took her all the way to morning. She would stumble in, dazed and smelling of earth and salt water, and he would pretend not to be relieved to see her.
They did a lot of pretending, the two of them.
But he woke the next morning and the other half of his bed was empty, while hers was made and untouched. He'd gone to breakfast, scowled over a plate of toast, and then stalked through the compound, and later disguised a quick check of all her favorite places as a routine morning walk.
She was nowhere, but it hadn't occurred to him yet that she might be gone. She'd gotten her silly self lost somewhere, but the startling thing was that he was actually somewhat worried. Worried, but not to the point that he would allow himself to search out the proper authorities, not to the point that he would begin to ask strangers if they'd seen a wispy blond girl with marbles rattling around in her pretty, empty little head.
She had other friends, but he'd stubbornly refused to get to know any of them. Edmund was the only person he'd ever seen her with that he knew by name, and there was no level of desperation in the world that would send him looking for that twit.
So, instead, he was walking with purpose -- certainly not terror -- down the boardwalk, hoping to come across someone, anyone who might know what the silly little girl had done with herself. That person had better have shown up soon... he was nearing the end of his unraveling rope.
It wasn't unheard of, crawling into bed alone. She had a tendency to wander at night, and sometimes that wandering took her all the way to morning. She would stumble in, dazed and smelling of earth and salt water, and he would pretend not to be relieved to see her.
They did a lot of pretending, the two of them.
But he woke the next morning and the other half of his bed was empty, while hers was made and untouched. He'd gone to breakfast, scowled over a plate of toast, and then stalked through the compound, and later disguised a quick check of all her favorite places as a routine morning walk.
She was nowhere, but it hadn't occurred to him yet that she might be gone. She'd gotten her silly self lost somewhere, but the startling thing was that he was actually somewhat worried. Worried, but not to the point that he would allow himself to search out the proper authorities, not to the point that he would begin to ask strangers if they'd seen a wispy blond girl with marbles rattling around in her pretty, empty little head.
She had other friends, but he'd stubbornly refused to get to know any of them. Edmund was the only person he'd ever seen her with that he knew by name, and there was no level of desperation in the world that would send him looking for that twit.
So, instead, he was walking with purpose -- certainly not terror -- down the boardwalk, hoping to come across someone, anyone who might know what the silly little girl had done with herself. That person had better have shown up soon... he was nearing the end of his unraveling rope.