Dark and Silent

The sum total

The air was stale and cold. Just like she had known it would be. It didn't make it any easier. Most of the furniture had been sold by her Dad. There was a stool at the breakfast bar, but otherwise, the room was empty. The coat closet was her first stop. A large military duffle with "O. Wright" on it sat in one corner and a long thick duster was still hanging on the other side. The duffle was full of BDUs and wooly-pulleys.

"We should spread this out and someone should take the coat. I'm too short, but it will fit one of you and if we're walking and heading north we're going to need it," Nic said, dragging the duffle out and pulling out the coat before closing it. She put the coat to her nose and took a breath.

Her dad's cologne still faintly clung to the fabric. She blinked rapidly and draped the coat over the duffle at the door. The closet in the second bedroom had a couple of those 72-hour emergency supply buckets, a few boxes, and the collapsible wagons. She opened the closet door and was hit with a wave of cedar. Mom hung cedar in every closet. Nic bowed her head for a second before shaking it and went to start pulling out the supplies.

Suddenly, she was in a completely different spot in the room and the bossy one, who she couldn't remember his name or even if he had introduced himself, was passing out the buckets and the wagons.

"What the--?" She knew she had been bodily moved out of the way, probably by Raven, but it was still disconcerting. This had better not become a thing. She was not that short dammit! Frowning at the virtual wall of male backs (and very nice backsides she must admit), she bowed to the inevitable and sighed. "I need the boxes to come out, too."

And like magic, the three boxes were in a neat stack in front of her. She just looked at them for a moment before she took a deep breath and opened the boxes. The scent of her mother's sachets filled the room, but this time she didn't stop at the flash of grief. She had things to do. Sophie was running races with herself the length of the living room and Corey was in there with her as he sorted out the contents of the duffle bag. She rifled through the first box and found it to be a catch-all for the odds and ends that had lived in her dad's desk. She only took three things from this box: her father's dog tags, her parent's marriage certificate, and a pen in a hinged box. She reclosed the box and slid it against the wall. The men had cleared out and only the bossy one stood in the doorway watching her. The next box had most of what she was looking for. A wooden box full of seeds, a spindle, a handbound leather journal, and a tightly folded bundle of fabric all joined the certificate and pen on the floor. After she had reclosed and moved that box, there was only the smallest one left. It said "Nic Doe" on the side. It hadn't been opened as far as she knew in at least ten years.

Inside was what she was looking for. A thin file sat on top. It had originally said "Jane Doe" but some smartass (possibly her dad now that she was looking at the handwriting) had marked out Jane and written "Nic" above it. A copy of her adoption papers and a set of clothes in a vacuum-sealed pouch were the only other items. She took them all.

"That's what you're looking for?" the smoky voice asked. Nic looked over at him.

"Yes," She nodded softly. "I'm sorry I forgot your name."

"Axel."

"This," she held up the vacuum-sealed pouch, "and that bear Sophie's trying to strangle are the sum total of my life before the age of six. I was found one night collapsed on the side of the road. I was wearing these clothes. I knew my name. I knew Owen's name. I knew that I was born in September. Not the day, just the month. That's it, that was all I knew. This is the investigator's file. And these are one of three copies of my adoption papers."

"The investigators didn't find your family?" Axel asked as he walked over and took the pouch from Nic giving it a curious look. "Aren't these boys' clothes?"