Page 35 of In Her Memory

“This is where we’re staying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Loyalynne moved ahead of her. “It’s perfect. No one comes here anymore.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Look at it,” Loyalynne said, gesturing with one porcelain hand. “Nature is reclaiming it. Humans are predictable – they avoid places that remind them of their own impermanence.”

Emma swallowed hard and followed her strange companion up what remained of a gravel path. Weeds pushed through the stones, grabbing at her ankles. The front porch creaked ominously as she stepped onto it, the wood soft with rot in places. The door hung askew on a single hinge, opening into darkness so complete it seemed solid.

“I can’t see anything,” Emma protested.

“Your eyes will adjust,” Loyalynne replied, her own glass eyes having no such limitation. “There’s moonlight coming through the windows.”

As Emma’s eyes adjusted, she saw that a couch with its stuffing spilling out like intestines dominated one wall. An ancient television set with a shattered screen stood in the corner. Picture frames hung crookedly, their photos long faded or removed.

“Someone used to live here,” Emma murmured. “A family, maybe.”

“Everyone leaves eventually,” Loyalynne said, her voice echoing strangely in the empty space. “One way or another.”

They moved deeper into the house, the floorboards protesting beneath Emma’s weight though Loyalynne seemed to float above them, leaving no trace. The kitchen held the skeletal remains of appliances, cabinet doors hanging open like gaping mouths. A dining room featured a table collapsed on one side, chairs scattered as if the occupants had left in a hurry.

“Upstairs,” Loyalynne directed, already moving toward a staircase that looked far from stable.

“Is that safe?” Emma asked.

“Safer than sleeping down here where anyone passing by might spot movement through the windows.”

Emma tested the first step with her foot, wincing at the groan of wood. She ascended slowly, testing each step before committing her weight to it. The staircase opened onto a narrow hallway with three doors. Loyalynne led her to the second one.

Inside was what had once been a bedroom. A metal-framed bed still stood against one wall, its mattress stained but surprisingly intact. A dresser missing most of its drawers and a chair with only three legs completed the furnishings.

“This will do,” Loyalynne said.

Emma approached the mattress cautiously, half-expecting to find it occupied by rodents or insects. She prodded it, but nothing scattered away. The springs creaked as she sat on the edge, but it held her weight.

“I guess it’s better than the ground or the floor,” she conceded, setting her backpack beside her.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her of how little she’d eaten that day. She dug into her backpack and pulled out the apple and crackers she’d been saving. The apple was slightly bruised from being carried all day, but she bit into it anyway, savoring the sweet-tart juice.

“Where are we going tomorrow?” she asked between bites, breaking the crackers into smaller pieces to make them last longer.

Loyalynne stood by the window, looking out at the night. “West. We need to keep moving west.”

“But why west? What’s west?”

“Distance,” Loyalynne replied. “The farther we get from where those phantoms found you, the safer you’ll be.”

Emma chewed slowly, considering this. “How far do we have to go before we can stop running?”

“You ask too many questions,” Loyalynne said, turning from the window. “Questions you don’t need answers to.”

“I think I do need answers,” Emma said, a thread of defiance in her voice. “I’m the one walking for miles. I’m the one going hungry. I’m the one sleeping in abandoned houses. I deserve to know why.”

“You know why,” Loyalynne’s voice hardened. “To keep you safe from those who would make you forget who you really are. Those who would call you by the fake name Piper and claim to be your family.”

“But why would anyone do that? What would they gain?”

“Control,” Loyalynne said simply. “They want to control you, use your abilities for their own purposes.”