When your entire life has been a lie, who do you trust?
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If you'd asked Jason Williams about his life, he would have told you it was fairly normal. Sure, his family moves at least once a year, and yes, his teenage sister needs a full-time care...
Like strains of a song he couldn't quite remember, the words echoed through Jason's mind. As it faded away, he slowly became aware of a soft hand tapping frantically against his face. Ana growled in frustration, nearly slapping him this time, and Jason's eyes snapped open.
She was kneeling over him, the ends of her long hair brushing his face. Trees loomed above them; somehow they were still in the forest.
"What happened?" he mumbled. His shoulder burned like fire, his sleeve wet and sticky against his skin. His eyes flicked across the clearing, searching for the men who had shot him. "Where did they go, Ana?"
Jason figured she wouldn't respond. He was just in the habit of talking to her the way someone might a friend asleep. But to his surprise, she pointed back the way the two of them had come.
His brow furrowed. What had they done, taken a lunch break? The inexplicable disappearance filled him with quiet fear. They must have gone for reinforcements, or maybe went to find something to carry him with. He couldn't believe that they would simply leave. The same people that shot his mom out of the sky surely hadn't shot him just to walk away.
As though her job was over now that he was awake, Ana wandered a couple feet away and stared off into the darkness, her attention span spent. Jason's shoulder pulsed in waves as he heaved himself into sitting position, but he clenched his jaw and ignored it. Whatever the reason they'd left, it gave Jason a small window. He wasn't about to waste it.
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Ana wondered if Jason would die. It was something she'd glimpsed on TV one time before Dad had changed the channel. There had been blood then. There was lots of blood now. She'd accidentally touched Jason's arm, and the gooey stuff was sticking to her hand. She didn't like the feeling.
But Jason was awake now. Awake was good. Awake wasn't dead. Especially since if it had been, Dad wasn't there to change the channel.
Ana frowned, drawing her arms around herself. Dad should have been here. But he wasn't, and now everything was falling apart. She wanted to pretend that she didn't understand why the men had left, but she understood it like she understood almost nothing else. The knowing resonated in the deepest parts of her.
But she hadn't done that in... in a long time.
I need Dad, Ana thought again. But he's not here, and everything is falling apart, crumbling, drifting and dragging and breaking... The words spun in her head like a whirlpool drawing ships into the void. As her thoughts ran in ever darker and tighter circles, her hands began to shake. She was dangerously close to an edge she should back away from, but he wasn't here, and everything was falling apart.
While her grip on reality slipped, she tried desperately to remember her dad's instructions. For a moment, his face floated in her vision, and she was back in one of their living rooms, a really old one, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with him. His eyes were intense but kind, and she could hear his gentle voice as her hands shook uncontrollably and her thoughts spun out of control.
