"Hello?"

"Portman, I'm Clark. There may be some discoveries. ”

"Go ahead."

There is also a chat window between him and his best friend. They were together on Tuesday night. ”

"Details?"

"Not much. Only said he would be picked up around 9pm. ”

"Pick it up? Carl doesn't have a driver's license. Or a car. ”

"So there's a third party here."

"Talk to his mom again. Friends with cars. ”

“… I'm not sure if you'll be coming again," Sara said awkwardly, the front door ajar.

"Of course I'm here," I said happily. "It's Thursday, isn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"But what." I gave her the best crooked smile I could ever do. "Are you going to let me stand outside all day?"

I was right outside Sarah's gate, at the end of a stone path lined with small lanterns and flowers, and—no joke—a white spiked fence on the edge of the lawn. Probably a painting. After a long afternoon in the woods, I finally mustered up the courage to return to civilization. I was lucky that it was Thursday; On other days, I might still be paralyzed from worrying outside.

But it was Thursday. Dinner at Sarah's house on Thursday. I never missed a Thursday party at Sarah's house.

It took me a long time to recover from my conversation with Carl. I spent hours poking the ground with a stick, looking out in the Ettolin language about Reynier Selman

i

Cellma

and increasingly incomprehensible invective, as well as incredibly specific insults to his followers. It's really useless stuff because I can't do anything about it anymore, but it makes me feel so much better. Picking at Ettoline in the dirt was a feeling of nostalgia for myself when I returned. I grasped the clues of these identities like a drowning woman and pulled myself out of despair.

Damn, it worked. I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm eager to hang out with my best friends.

Sara finally opens the door completely, but is still confused.

"Is anyone home?" I asked, walking past her and kicking my shoes into the neat pile by the stairs.

"Mom is in the back." Sara closed the door gently. I looked around and remembered what the house looked like.

The walls of the stairs are covered with pictures of their whole family – Sara and her parents. Real, professional stuff, every single one. Proper lighting and framing, and much more. Her father worked in the computer industry and was an insignificant engineer. It's common in our area, but he's too high-end. They are rich, but they don't show off much. He drives a regular car, and so does his wife, and their house is not much bigger than ours. From the outside, it's neat and tidy, but very middle class.

Inside? Tons of gizmos and gadgets. I can't tell you what half of the stuff in their house does, but I know they're all expensive. Her dad loved his toys.

A hand touched my shoulder.

Despite all this, and even though I knew exactly who she was and what she meant to me, I backed down. I jerked up my hand and knocked her hand away.

I turned around, ready to apologize, but her expression was ...... Satisfied?

"You're still hiding," she prompted.

"Sarah, look," I was about to speak, but she just shook her head. She took my hand and dragged me up the stairs step by step.

In a few moments, we entered Sarah's room, the door closed tightly. I remember this room very well. Sarah's bed, the most comfortable bed I've ever felt, tucked into the corner. The walls were plastered with posters and drawings (some of which I had painted and better ones she had drawn) and a wardrobe full of clothes, much more than I had before. In another corner, near the window, there is a wide table with a row of screens (three, count), and speakers, keyboards, and everything you need as a technician.

Her computer, which is probably more expensive than everything I own combined, (I never asked—I don't think I really want the answer...... either) Sitting underneath, the wires stretch out in all directions. The bookshelf next to the bed is filled with great novels (my private lending library). The gap in it could be the book I'm at home right now), "my" laptop on top and probably put it there the last time I was here.

Sarah let me use it. She said it was mine and assured that no one could look at or enter it without my permission. Not even her. Even then, I didn't take it home. I guess I don't want my mom to feel guilty for not having the money to buy me one.

Sarah closed the door behind us and sat down in her chair with a thud. I took my usual place on the bed across from her. For a moment, we were both silent.

I was nervous, looking around, avoiding her gaze. I don't want to say it first. I'm not sure what she would bring up, or what she heard, or what she discovered. I want her to take the initiative so I can be smarter. Matt's words about trust echoed in my head. This, combined with my personal experience of betrayal, meant that I was very reluctant to open up to anyone. Sarah.

But she's not going to give up because of that.

"You know, people talk a lot......" Sara said very formally. It's like she's going to give a speech.

"What?" I asked naively.

"it," she snapped. "What really happened after the second period?"

"You'll have to be more specific...... "I don't know why I'm procrastinating." Apparently she already knew.

"I've heard you easily took down a college football player. Threw him straight into the locker. ”

"Oh. Yes, I did. ”

"Jane," Sara said, her voice unusually high-pitched. "Last time I remember, you were afraid to hit a flirter who was too aggressive. Now you're playing athletes for fun?"

"Not for fun," I said quickly. "It's definitely not for fun."

"So what?" Sara sounded worried, and it made me feel worse. "Did he do anything to you?"

"Nope. Nothing. It was an accident. ”

"It's not an accident," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Oh my God, Jane, what's going on?" You've been crazy these days, and you're not alone. Matt suddenly became super confident and outgoing, which is good, but still weird. Now that guy named Carl, you've suddenly become super good friends with him, even though I've never heard of him before?"

I nodded slowly, not sure what was going on. What did Carl do? Oh, my God!

The phrase meant: "Well, Carl – a very quiet guy I didn't even know he was in our class – suddenly scolded the teacher in the middle of APUSH. Keeps saying something really scary. Sara shook her head in exasperation. Jane, there's something wrong with the three of you. It's obvious. So...... Tell me, will?"

"I can't," I murmured, my gaze quickly averted. I didn't dare look at her when I said this.

Sara stood up and knelt in front of me. Her hand gripped mine tightly, clutching desperately.

"Please, Jane. You are my best friend. I just wanted to help. Tell me what's going on. Her eyes sparkled. She looked like she was going to cry. I just have to speak to stop her.

Oh, the stars, I thought. I want her to know everything without me having to tell her personally. Skip all the hassle and go straight back to being your best friend.

Why not? A small voice came to my head. This is Sarah. If there's one other person in the world who knows my secrets besides Matt, it's her.

I could feel my whole body sharpen to a point, as if I was about to take off into a sprint. When I turned to face her, it felt like the whole world was shaking. The air was full of anticipation, enough to stop time.

"I went to another world."

Sarah's eyes blinked. They blinked again.

I didn't say anything more. I just watched. Waiting.

Will she think I'm crazy? Will she believe me?

Do I want her to think I'm crazy? Maybe I want to go crazy. Imagine this whole madness.

I'm not sure. All I know is that I want my best friend to be on my side again, to be with me through thick and thin, and we both fight against the whole universe.

“… Tell me again. She finally said. I don't know if she's sarcastic or serious. Her face looked serious. A little skeptical, but definitely not angry or amused. I decided to go with the flow. I trust her.

"Tuesday night. We, uh, me, Matt and Carl, we're all ...... There is a Lord. To another ...... Oops, I can't think of that word. ”

"Earth?" Sarah guessed. "Dimensions?"

"Dimensions, yes." I nodded. "A place called Serraville."

"Like a forest?" Sarah's voice hesitated again. She leaned back against the floor, leaning against her desk. Her water bottle was right next to her, and as usual, she took a deep sip, still looking at me carefully.

"That's where it happened." I replied and nodded again. "That night we went to the forest. The four of us found one—"

"Wait, you four?" Sarah interrupted. I couldn't help but swallow. “…… Jane?"

I can't leave him out, but I certainly can't talk about it yet. One day, I promised her in my mind. I tell you, I swear. "I'm sorry. Do you know Blake Swassam?"

"Nope."

"He's friends with Matt and Carl. Nice lad. A bit silly, but really good. ”

"He went with you, too," she concluded.

“…… Yes. ”

"And where is he hiding?" I feel like I have to go see him now because of how crazy it is. ”

I looked down at my feet, firmly focused on my toes, and a gust of wind blew into my ears. "He didn't come back." I muttered. Against my will, against every nerve in my body, yelling at me to avoid this farce and stay calm - tears welled up in my eyes.

"Oh...... Oh, God. ”

Sara immediately stood up and came to me. Even in my current state, even in this place, damn it, I still had an instinct to escape from the body that suddenly appeared, but I suppressed it. I don't know how I did it, but I'm forever grateful to the star who decided to give me mental courage in that moment – to let Sarah take care of me for a minute.

She put an arm around my shoulder, and I instinctively rested my head on her shoulder, tears welling up. It was the first time since I came back – and for the first time in a long, long time before that – that someone had actually seen me cry.

Are you talking about Blake? No, though that's heartbreaking.

It's actually simpler than that. Sara – whatever she was thinking right now – saw my expression and jumped up without hesitation, trying to comfort me.

Do you know what it's like to have such a friend? Someone who will be on your side no matter what the situation? I miss her the most when I'm away. More than showers, plain clothes, microwaves, brownies, or anything else: I miss my best friend.

I sat up again and wiped my eyes. Sara finds a tissue box and hands me one.

"Fannan," I said, choking up.

"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "I guess that sentence means 'thank you.'"

"First place in the class."

"So you speak another language now?"

I nodded. “Etoli

e。 The language of the Silvandas. ”

"Sounds magical."

"Well, yes, they're basically elves. I mean, there's more to it than that, but, yes, elves. ”

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Elves?"

"Well, Sylves. It's a bit racist to call them elves. Sarah, that's a complete fantasy world. Elves and dwarves or something. No, I once met a dragon. ”

“… How the hell did you meet the dragon?"

"Very, very careful." I laughed. "They're actually not that bad. Anyway, it's not. I don't know about the others, they're long gone. ”

"Wait a minute." Sara tilted her head to the side. "You said you left on Tuesday night. - "How long."

"Seven years".

Halfway through speaking, Sarah's mouth seemed to open open. It took her a while to recover, and I just stared at a pile of stuffed animals in a basket in the corner. “… Seven years? She whispered, incredulous.

"I think so. Likav sila

。 ”

"You don't look like you're 23," she said, with suspicion in her voice.

"I do feel like I'm 23." I complained. "Being forcibly shoved back into my 16-year-old body is really, really bad, trust me. A Silanev is not exactly the same as a year, so there may be a slight deviation. Also, when I got there, I didn't really have any way to keep track of time. I don't really know how long I was lost in this country before Tetvalen found me. ”

"So you're back, there's no time to pass. Narnia. You've mixed up your fantasy world. She smiled.

"No kidding," I argued. "I want to be serious."

"I know," she said, returning to a state of contemplation and relaxation. "It's just...... It's too much, you know?" I'm catching up. ”

“… You believe me, don't you?" I said nervously. I don't know what to do if she refuses. If she doesn't believe me, I don't think I'll survive. However, Sarah is not the type of person who believes in other people's words. She always wanted proof. It's in the family, it's in her blood. I don't know how she's going to react to all of this, because it's all so ...... It's weird.

"That's right," Sara said deliberately. "Or maybe you suddenly have a rich imagination overnight-"

"Vack fight."

- You lied to me, you never lied to me. Or you're crazy, which makes sense, but you don't look like it. Mostly. She shrugged. So, I can almost trust you all I have. She tossed her hair back and looked straight at me. Sounds good?"

I could have kissed her. "Thank you." I said, and a warm glow spread through every vein in my body.

"Okay," Sara said excitedly. "Now, you can explain how a girl who has basically failed French for two years in a row can suddenly master another language."

I shrugged. "I lived with the Silvers for many years. None of them spoke a word of English. With a little bit of magic, I quickly learned Etoli

e。 I had to do it. ”

“… Magic?" Sarah's eyes sparkled. Now she's really interested.

Me too, I'm going to explain my whole world to her, to my dearest friends. I've always liked storytelling, even if I'm not very good at it. Suddenly, I had a great, true story to tell and the perfect person to talk to.

"Magic. Etola。 ”

"Details. Right now. "Sara said so violently that I was taken aback. But I felt it, as eager as she was. Longing, longing for true fantasy. One that I really experienced.

"If you ...... Belch. I frowned. I can't put it into words. ”

Sara looked sympathetic. "Have you really forgotten English?"

"I haven't forgotten," I said a little angrily, "but I haven't spoken English for a long time...... I only started speaking English again about a year ago. "When I start—" I paused, looking for the right word. Explained. For the sake of the treaty. ”

"'Interpreting for the treaty,'" Sara repeated in disbelief. "Well, that's not fair, you just asked me 50 more questions."

"Well, I'm the only one they can speak English. I was the first member of the Sunshine Clan to negotiate with humans. They even made up a special title to commemorate it. ”

"Well, now you're just bragging."

"Yes," I said with a laugh. "No kidding, they named the position after me. The ambassador of humanity is known as Sirajan. Even the one who succeeded me was the new Sheila Jean. ”

Sarah grinned. "So you're immortal. Good job. At least that explains your strange accent. ”

I suddenly felt embarrassed. "Is that really weird?"

"Nope. Well, yes, but not very strange. Sara tried to give me a reassuring smile. I love it. Don't lose it. ”

“Sel

ou。 "Since then, I've stopped trying to correct it, and it's a relief to my throat.

"Wait, aren't elves—well, Sypheus—immortal?"

I sighed. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, even though I hated to think about it. "No, but everyone thinks so. They do live for hundreds of years, though, thanks to etola. ”

Sarah is too shrewd not to see the possibility. "So if it's magic, you live with them and you can access it...... Will you live that long?"

I hesitated. “… I said calmly. "Every time I do this ritual, I can feel it. You know, heal me. ”

"But when you tried it yesterday......" Sara said slowly, connecting the dots in her head. Oh. ”

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Jane," she murmured.

“S 'okay。” To be honest, I don't know how I feel yet. It took me a long time to get used to the idea of living a hundred or more years longer than my normal age, if not longer, and staying young and healthy all the time. It is quite disturbing to be taken away suddenly. And, I have to take care of myself more carefully now.

I really hate brushing my teeth in the morning, or watching what I eat, or dealing with my period. Don't let me say anything else. Sometimes, being a real person is really bad.

"Wait, so you're going to do magic?" I mean Ettola?" Sarah's eager tone returned.

As she spoke, her cat poked its head out of the closet, and it had been lounging on a pile of clothes stuffed inside. This is where he is used to and the only thing Sara has left on the floor. Other than that, her room was spotless. It came slowly, jumped on the bed, and soon crawled into my lap. I smiled and stroked it, and was rewarded with a grunt of satisfaction. After a while he snooze again.

"No—no," Sara warned, "he won't let you go." ”

"I can," I said nonchalantly. "At least a little."

"Oh, sort of. That's right. ”

I grinned. "Well, I behaved well. Tethevalle

Saying that I can master the speed faster than anyone he has ever taught, even better than some of the real players. In some places, they say I'm the best in the whole forest. ”

"And humble," she teased.

I laughed. "They think it's because I'm human. I don't know. They lasted much longer than I did. I'm much faster than them. "Her cat moved around my lap, prompting me to keep petting it.

"And what are you good at?"

I frowned and looked down at the cat. "What's his name?"

"Standards. The name his dad gave him. Naming a cat after a keyboard is so inferior, but it doesn't matter. "I could tell I should already know, but Sara explained it as kindly as she could. Doesn't sound angry at all. She just looked worried again. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." I cleared my throat. As I continued, I felt a little depressed. "I'm the best at shooting. It's fun, throwing it around, separating it and recombining, changing colors, making fireworks and explosions, and so on. Once I have studied, practiced, and meditated enough, I will be able to truly enter the realm of fire. I can even start from scratch. They don't think it's possible. ”

“Etole

dei ?” Sara asked. I deliberately frowned at her pronunciation, even though it was really bad. She picked up a stress ball from the table and threw it at me. I dodged it with a smile. "But take it seriously."

"It's really hard to describe," I honestly said. "It's like, I guess...... What does a real understanding of something?" You can't do anything with or with something until you really understand it. ”

"Well," Sara said, her eyes calmly analytical, like whenever she's solving some programming problem. Of course, a sober analysis didn't help magic, so after a while, she came back with a dejected look. "I'd like to see something more concrete."

"I'm sorry. I can't really explain it well in English. ”

"Damn elves." Sara said in a solemn tone. I grabbed the ball and threw it back to her, nailing it to her chest. "Ouch."

"Does it really hurt?" I asked worriedly. I didn't pay much attention to how hard I threw it.

"No," she said, realizing I meant it. She pinched the ball and thought for a moment. “… I can't help but feel like there's a dark side here. ”

I looked away again. "Yes," I said, pointing to the wall.

"Look," she said. I looked. Her eyes seemed so friendly and warm. I hadn't seen a look like that since I left Nevelin on the pitch outside Candil, he was covered in blood but still ready to give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be okay. "If you don't want to say—"

"I did." I had to do it. This is the only way that will free me from the pain in my heart. "There's a reason they're so happy with my firefights."

“… I bet it also has to do with those treaties that you helped translate," she added. Her voice became thin and strained. "There's a war, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"Have you fought in it?"

I nodded again.

Sara didn't speak. She looked at me carefully. The silence continued, each moment becoming more awkward.

What will she think of me? I can't tell. Even as my best friend, what did you do to me? I did what I had to do to survive, right? That's what I say to myself every night before I go to bed, and every time these memories come to my mind.

I didn't fall asleep though. A full night's sleep is normal for a person. I'm not normal, and I certainly haven't slept all night. I nap intermittently during the day, and that's how I live now. Even the 15 hours of the day before, I was filled with moments of panic, waking up with my knuckles white and ready to slash at an opportunistic cell companion who was not actually there. Sleep wasn't relaxing for me, it was a terrible state and it was when I was most vulnerable.

I can't go on like this. Please, Sarah. Don't abandon me now.

I prayed wildly in my mind, praying to all the stars closest to my soul that she would accept me as I became. If you can still hear my voice on this planet, pass on my wisdom to Sarah. Let her know what to do, because I'm obviously out.

"Look," she said again. I met her gaze in desperate hope, but I forced my face back to a passive expression. I can't let her see my emotions right now. "I can't possibly understand what you're going through, but I can try to listen. Do what you can. Anything you want, anytime. Are you alright?"

Oh, Sarah. How could you exist. How could you be so perfect, what merciful fate sent you to me? I want to cry, I want to laugh, I want to laugh. I wanted to dance, I wanted to sing, I wanted to hug her, I wanted to curl up in the corner of her room, crying tears as she hugged me. I want to pour out my soul for her, acknowledging every bad thing I've ever done, the men and women I've killed, the friends I've failed, the laws I've broken, the people I've loved and lost, and all the loneliness I've accepted. I want her to see me and tell me it's okay.

I didn't say any of that. I didn't do any of these things.

I just waited, staring at Sarah, the vigilant, lonely eyes staring at my face forever.

"Thank you." I said with a smile. She smiled too, but she also carried with it a sadness that I had never seen in her expression. Or was it always there and I never understood? Never realized what it was?

I don't know, but I could see it at that moment. I'm not the only one in the room with secrets.

＊＊＊

Sarah's mom told us to go to dinner. We started talking again, and thankfully, we got back to the happier and lighter topic. I tried to answer truthfully and thoroughly. Sara loves fantasy novels, but even so, I underestimated her desire for all my adventures.

In fact, it's really fun to tell her everything. She was so obsessed. I could have talked about the weather, and she might still have relished it. She wanted to know every detail and I would love to share. It's mostly stories about the Silver family and how they adopted me, but also stories about the whole world, about different people and their cultures (anyway, as far as I know, Silvers didn't really go out), and, of course, about Ettola and Ettorine.

Despite the different names, there is no real connection between them. I mean, saying phrases related to whatever kind of etola you want to play might help you focus, but at a true level of mastery, saying it out loud is considered amateurish. As long as you know exactly what you're going to do, you don't need to say anything in any sense of the world.

Gestures are very necessary, though. As Sara noticed, over the past few days, whether it's the midday ritual or the dinner ritual, I've acted like a very confused mime. While some etolev don't require handwork, most do, especially for external things. I don't know if it's just another way to help focus, but I've never gotten anything good without gestures or movements to guide etola. My efforts have all failed.

My fingers were scorched many, many times until I learned how to move the flame with precision.

Sorry, I'm wandering again. There's a more important story to tell here, not that I'm playing with fire.

Sara and I walked downstairs and talked and laughed as usual. Her mother was setting dishes and preparing dinner. I smelled the pizza and I was excited. I haven't eaten pizza yet – well, you should get the idea by now. But seriously. Pizza. Is there anything more authentic than pizza?

"Shasii, selaval," we walked into the kitchen, Sa

A shouted nonchalantly. I giggled and touched her with my elbow.

"What's that?" Mom asked, looking up from the oven.

"Oh, nothing," she said very seriously, holding back a laugh with me.

I whispered in her ear, "My daughter, my daughter, my daughter, Carl." Not exactly, she and Carl are terrible. But I just taught her the lines; A minute later, she was still mistaken.

"Huh? She asked out loud, but I just smiled innocently in response. "Oh, this kind of game for two people. You look at êtes, you look at my face, my face, my face.

"Behave well, Sarah," her mother interjected absentmindedly as she pulled out her pizza. It is homemade and looks absolutely perfect. That's not to say I have anything to compare to a recent pizza, but seriously, I'm salivating over this one.

Her mom started slicing it into thin slices while we sat down at our usual place at the table. Just as she was taking one of each of us, I heard the garage door start sliding open.

It's unusual, but it's not unheard of. When we ate, her father usually hadn't come home from work yet. He tends to work late. Our conversation was a little calmer when he was there, but he was always polite, greeting my family and asking how I was doing. He looks like a nice guy. Yes, he is a little cold at times, but he is also very tired and has a lot of pressure at work. I can't blame him for not being willing to tolerate two high school students as soon as he gets home, and even then, he always acts like a competent master.

This time, something was wrong. I can't tell what it is. Some details have changed. Apart from... I was here last Thursday and Sarah's mom's birthday on Monday. Just three days ago, it felt a little different. Except, of course, me.

I looked around the room. Sara was still talking about what happened at school today. Her mom nodded as she continued our conversation as if nothing had happened...... But I can see it. She began to move cautiously. She measured every step she took, carefully choreographing every movement, both deliberate and discreet.

Sara also seemed to suddenly become vigilant. She stared very intently at her plate - her empty plate, I should point out. Her hand fiddled with the fork. When my eyes swept over, I could see how tight she was hugging. It's subtle, it comes and goes, but the intent is clear.

It's like an arrow shot into my stomach. I'm an idiot. How could I have missed this?

They haven't changed at all. I finally understood what was going on.

They were scared.

When the door to the garage opened, everything became clearer.

"Welcome home, dear." Sarah's mom shouted. Quite normal.

Her father looked down the hallway and saw me sitting at the table. He smiled and waved his hand, putting his coat away. "Evening. It smells so good, darling. ”

"How's the work?"

"It's exhausting. I'm so happy to be home. ”

"Would you like something to drink?" Sara asked, still staring at the plate. Her voice is very casual.

"Thank you, Sarah, but I can get it. Do you want anything?"

"Coke sounds good. Jane?"

Stars, are they all acting? All the while? I was out of breath when I realized that Sara and her dad were looking at me expectantly. I swallowed, trying to clear my throat.

"Uh, do I want root soda?" I asked awkwardly. Should I act according to the script? I'm a terrible actor. I can hide it if I need to, but I'm not good at pretending to be normal. I don't even know what's normal anymore.

"Oh, is it Jane now?" Her mom asked, shoving a slice of pizza into my plate. Her hand was still gripping the pizza roll, the sharp silver rim glistening in the sunlight.

"Yes. It's time for a change. "Sara nudged me under the table, trying to keep me focused, but I was still staring intently at her hand holding the fork like a dagger." Jenny no more. ”

"That's too bad. I love the name Jenny. ”

"Well, dear, that's her name. She can do what she loves with it," her father said. He winked at me. "Jenny on the block anymore."

"God, Daddy." Sara rolled her eyes. "Please don't try to quote pop culture. It's over. ”

I was very confused about what was happening. I couldn't handle the ridiculously contradictory conversation going on, and the physical reactions of everyone in the room. As soon as her father spoke, Sara grabbed the fork again. She seemed to flinch a little when he looked at her mother – but when he looked at me, her knuckles turned pale as she grabbed the pizza roll.

If I hadn't eaten a hundred of these dinners in their kitchens under almost identical circumstances, I would have thought we were about to finish.

It's just that this is a suburb of Oregon, not a tavern or a dilapidated dungeon in an alley. Here, fighting is like a portal opening and throwing us all into another universe.

Sorry, sorry.

This was the case throughout the dinner process. It's like they're performing for me. Normal, happy family. They will make fun of each other's old habits, argue about politics, and discuss movies and TV shows. It was all so perfect, so ordinary, that I found myself reaching for the knife, which was still hidden under the hem of my shirt behind my back, the only thing I didn't tell Sarah.

When does the curtain fall?

＊＊＊

Never. After dinner, Sarah's mom cleaned up, and I walked straight through the back door to the yard to get some air. Sara left her place and followed a moment later. It wasn't until the door closed and we got around the corner that the light was gone and I turned to face her.

"Is that Dove Nara Wacker?" I asked, confused and angry.

Sara also looked genuinely confused. "Huh?"

”。 The whole dinner. All of you. "I was nervous. Very nervous. Sarah is lucky that I can't conjure up a fire right now, or the neighbors might call the firefighters.

"What are you talking about?"

I guess she's determined to keep the show going. I didn't know how to react, what to do, how to respond. I would love to be mad at her because she hid it from me, but how could I do that? I've been hiding it from her for the past few days, doesn't that make me a super hypocrite?

This time it was different, I convinced myself. That's control and fear. This is happening actively and has apparently been for some time.

Without warning, I grabbed the hem of Sarah's shirt and lifted it up. No, I wasn't thinking about that. Free your mind from the gutter. I'm looking for bruises. Any type of marking. Evidence.

"Hmm......" Sara looked around, making sure no one saw us. Well, that's weird. ”

Spiritually, I agreed. There was no sign of abuse on her body. Is this all my imagination? Is that really a very normal dinner?

Am I completely insane?

"I'm sorry," I muttered. I let go and retreated to the wall of the house.

"Don't worry. Will you remind me next time?" Sara seemed surprisingly calm about the whole situation.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, turning to leave.

Before I could leave, Sara reached out and grabbed mine. "Hey, it's okay," she said calmly.

I felt my eyes moisten again. I can't even spend a night with my best friend's family before my past pops into my mind. My instinct almost led me to attack Sarah's father, in his own home, in front of his family.

Can I really live here as I used to?

That night, I cried for the second time, but there was no joy anymore. Happiness is reserved for those who do not actively lose their minds