Steps

Step 16: Two Weeks Later

"Volvere pronto. Te quiero, mi erizo."

-----------------------------------------

Two weeks; that's how long he'd been gone. Cisco had dropped off the grid that night shortly after Barry showed up. No texts, no phone calls; zero contact. It ate away at Leah, made her feel anxious. Had she done something? Why wasn't he answering her texts?

Jamie, true to her word, had shown up though. That first morning when Leah had expected to find Cisco at her side, she instead found Jamie raking through her closet. "Don't you have a sheer navy shirt? The sleeveless one? I need to borrow it." It had been disorienting, to say the least. Leah had asked about Cisco, if maybe he passed Jamie on the way out, but Jamie just shrugged. "It was just Nova when I got here." Something deep within Leah pained at the statement, but she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed it down. It would be ok.

But it wasn't.

Settling back into life with a cast had been harder than she had expected. First, it was nearly impossible to reach anything that required even the slightest bit of stretching. And while Leah generally kept things low, there were still places that she had a frustratingly difficult time getting to. Like shelves. And the top of her closet. And cabinets—God, the cabinets. Second, there was the whole matter of the fact that she couldn't drive, or really go anywhere that might require standing for extended amounts of time. She was a homebody, sure, but groceries didn't buy themselves. And finally, the cast wasn't waterproof, which made showers a nightmare.

That week, Jamie's help was much more needed than Leah had originally thought. Things had been moved lower; meals cooked and frozen; trash bags, duct tape, and a stool stuffed in the bathroom; lots of little things that made life a bit more bearable. Of course, Jamie had been smug about the whole thing. "I told you so. You can't do this alone, you hermit." Still, it was nice having someone there.

After deeming the apartment "safe for the idiot," Jamie had left the same way she'd come. One night she was there, the next morning she wasn't. That was her style. She'd always been terrible with goodbyes. Leah had wobbled out to find two things lying on the coffee table. The first, a letter. Jamie, no doubt. The second, a yellow folder with her name written in a tight, yet elegant script. A trademark of Omma. She read the letter first.

Leah,

We found these the other week when going through some stuff from the attic. Omma thought they would mean a lot to you, so she asked me to bring them. I know you will, but try not to cry, ok? It was never your fault.

Leah sucked in a deep breath in and pressed her lips together. That didn't bode well. Already, she was getting a bad feeling about what was inside. She grabbed the folder, made her way to the couch, and eased herself down. Another deep breath in, and then she opened the folder.

Tears welled up almost instantly as she took in the sight. Tucked neatly inside the folder and tied together with a thin string were parts of the very thing she'd tried to rid herself of years ago. Photos. Ribbons. Pages upon pages of marked up code. EMMS. Ray had kept a paper copy after all. But after nearly a year of working on it, she really should have expected it. He'd always liked backups. Leah shook her head slowly, trying her best not to let the tears fall as she picked out the photos and ribbons. The code was gingerly sealed back in the folder. Another day. She couldn't deal with that now.

She made her way to the dining room and grabbed some washi tape from a roll, sticking the few items to her wall one by one. The first place ribbon from USACO; the letter from the chairman of the board of the hospital; a few photos of their group standing outside the hospital, happy smiles from students, teachers, and nurses alike. As much as she hated the reminder of it all, some part of her cried out at the idea of letting it all go. She paused as she reached the wide group shot, the world around her suddenly becoming still and tense. She could already feel the slight tremble beginning to overtake her.