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The deli owner’s daughter picked up the notebook and opened it.
I’m supposed to keep a journal. Write something down every day. I don’t know what to write, though. I want to go home. I miss Mom and Dad. I miss Sage. The only thing I have from home is Puppy. I sleep with him every night, but it’s not enough. I just want to go home.
Hmm. Interesting. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. The deli owner’s daughter had a stuffed dog where she kept all her innermost secrets—secrets that could destroy Daphne, whom she kept them from.
What of this journal?
Should she keep this a secret as well?
Something inside her said yes. Not just yes, but an emphatic yes. But this notebook was too big to stuff inside an already stuffed dog.
Where to hide it?
She looked around. This place seemed familiar. Yes, she had been here before. On the phone, actually, when she’d discovered the three names that were now hidden inside her own head and inside the stuffed pup.
The deli owner’s daughter was used to turning up in unexpected places. It was how her life went. If she wasn’t working at the deli, she was always in a strange place, and she was never sure how she’d gotten there.
It was just life, and she was used to it. She had a job to do. To protect Daphne.
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
The logic of the deli made her life easier. Life without emotion, without fear, was what she was all about.
Now, the problem of the notebook.
It was one thing to memorize information, write it down, and hide it inside a stuffed animal. It was quite another to hide something as big as this notebook.
Perhaps she should just destroy it.
She’d thought about burning things before, but she could never find a match. Especially in the white place. The sterile place. She’d constantly looked for a match there, but she’d never found one.
Almost like they didn’t exist in that place.
But here? Perhaps she could find a match. She hastily opened all the desk drawers. No matches. She took the notebook and ambled out of the room and down a hallway. Her nose led the way. Something smelled irresistible, kind of like the yeasty aroma of fresh bread. She knew the fragrance well. The deli baked its bread fresh daily.
This was a white bread, a crusty white bread. It smelled a lot like the pioneer loaf at the deli.
Her nose led her to a kitchen. Good. It was empty. The smell was coming from the oven. She peeked inside. Yes, a loaf was rising and had just started to become golden on top. She closed her eyes and inhaled, taking care to keep her face far enough away from the heat so as not to burn.
But back to the task at hand. Matches.
She methodically opened each drawer and riffled through the items.
Eureka! Finally a box of kitchen matches.
She’d have to go outside to burn the notebook. Safety came first, just like at the deli. Never start a fire in a confined space.
French doors beckoned. She opened them, and two dogs ran up to greet her. Did she know these dogs? Yes, they seemed familiar. She knelt down and petted them on their soft heads. They licked her face.
A moment later, though, she shooed them away. She had a task to complete.
She walked out onto the green grass. It wouldn’t do to start a fire on a wooden deck. The dogs nosed around, but once she lit the match, they eased away, bothered by the flames.
She lit a corner of the notebook and watched the orange flame spread. Good thing it wasn’t a breezy day. The fire took with no trouble at all, and soon all that was left of the pink notebook was a pile of ashes.
She waited for the ashes to cool, and then she stood and ground them into the grass so no one would see them.
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
Another task completed without emotion.
Nice job. Very nice job indeed.
The afternoon sun warmed my face.
“Daphne, there you are.”
I turned. Mazie stood on the deck. I waved to her.
“Belinda said you were looking for some paper.” Mazie held up several notepads. “Here you go.”
Right. I was looking for some paper. So why was I outside?
I walked toward Mazie and took the pads. “Thanks. I’m going to take Joe out on a walk and do some writing.”
“Sounds wonderful. What are you going to write about?”
“I don’t know. The beauty of this place, I guess.” I inhaled. Hmm. Was that a faint smell of something burning? It smelled kind of like a campfire.
“Do you smell something?” I asked Mazie.
“No, but I’m a little clogged up today,” she said.
