Three Years Later
The worn-out
book
kept him
company.
Its
pages
w
r
i
n
k
l
e
d
and
s
o
f
t
from
c
o
u
n
t
l
e
s
s
r
e
a
d
i
n
g
s
.
He
sat
on the same old
b
e
n
c
h
.
Its w e a t h e r e d
w
o
o
d
c o o l
a
g
a
i
n
s
t
his
s
k
i
n
,
as
a u t u m n
l
e
a
v
e
s
d
r
i
f
t
e
d
by.
l
o
s
t
in
t h o u g h t
his
f
i
n
g
e
r
s
brushed
the
e d g e
o
f
a
hidden
s k e t c h
t
u
c
k
e
d
a m o n g
the
p
a
g
e
s
.
When
he
r e v e a l e d i t ,
he
r
e
c
o
g
n
i
z
e
d
a
f a m i l i a r
f a c e .
L u n a
d r a w n
on the
p
a
g
e
,
she
s
t
a
r
e
d
back
at
him,
s
t
i
r
r
i
n
g
t
h
o
u
g
h
t
s
o
f
t h e i r
c
h
i
l
d
h
o
o
d
.
In t h i s
b
i
t
t
e
r
s
w
e
e
t
m
o
m
e
n
t
,
he was
c
a
r
r
i
e
d
a
w
a
y
.
M
e
m
o
r
i
e
s
o
f
her
s
m
i
l
e
,
t h e
way
her
e
y
e
s
c
r
i
n
k
l
e
d
at the
c
o
r
n
e
r
s
,
a
n
d
h
o
w
her
h
a
i
r
c
a
s
c
a
d
e
d
in
g
e
n
t
l
e
w
a
v
e
s
f
l
o
o
d
e
d
his
m
i
n
d
.
They
used to
s
p
e
n
d
h
o
u
r
s
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
a
r
o
u
n
d
these
p
l
a
y
g
r
o
u
n
d
s
,
c
o
m
i
n
g
up
with
games
and
telling
e a c h o t h e r
s
e
c
r
e
t
s
.
They
l
a
u
g
h
e
d
,
they
s
o
b
b
e
d
,
and built
a
t
h
o
u
s
a
n
d
m
e
m
o
r
i
e
s
in those
fleeting
m
o
m
e
n
t
s
until
she
v
a
n
i
s
h
e
d
.
He traced the
d
o
o
d
l
e
with his t h u m b ,
f
e
e
l
i
n
g
the paper's
subtle
t
e
x
t
u
r
e
.
As the b r e e z e
s
w
a
y
e
d
the
b
r
a
n
c
h
e
s
,
the
q
u
e
s
t
i
o
n
s
in his mind
p
e
r
s
i
s
t
e
d
.
Where
had
she
vanished
to?
Why had she
left
without
a
word?
l
i
k
e
t
h
e
e
t
e
r
n
a
l
cycle
of a
carousel,
the questions
spun
e
n
d
l
e
s
s
l
y
,
offering
no
resolution.
He sighed.
The burden
o
f
u
n
c
e
r
t
a
i
n
t
y
w
e
i
g
h
i
n
g
him
d
o
w
n
Like
an
a
n
c
h
o
r
.
Perhaps
it was
time
to
abandon
the
questions
and start
searching.
Placing the book
in his backpack,
he stood up
and surveyed
the
p
l
a
y
g
r
o
u
n
d
.
The ancient
rusty chains
creaked
in the wind
and the swings
hung
m o t i o n l e s s .
The sun was setting,
casting long shadows.
A wave
o
f
m
e
l
a
n
c
h
o
l
y
settled over him
as he turned
to leave,
the houses behind him
growing smaller
and more run-down.
He knew these streets,
corners,
and alleys,
they once explored
t
o
g
e
t
h
e
r
.
It felt like
he was walking
in their old
f
o
o
t
s
t
e
p
s
,
r
e
t
r
a
c
i
n
g
their
paths.
As he wandered
through
the familiar roads,
his steps
led him
to
Luna's
a b a n d o n e d
h o u s e ,
unvisited
for ages.
Memories
tied
to that old doodle
urged him
to face
the past.
At the entrance
his throat
t i g h t e n e d ,
heart
r a c i n g
like a caged
a n i m a l .
Its windows
were like
b i g
e m p t y
e y e s
staring back.
What could possibly
lurk
within?
Would he enter
this tomb
of memories?
Would long-sought
answers
emerge,
or only more
questions
that
h a u n t
t h e s i l e n c e ?
