the world is so wild, beautiful and terrifying, and everywhere we turn, a new atrocity. then, i close my eyes and picture joy. among things, there is this day. among faces, there is yours. and i am no longer afraid.
book i of ii ─ 'silverwood' duolo...
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ANNIKA PACKS LIGHT, and a part of her wants to leave without saying goodbye. She hated that part of herself, unbearably but not quickly enough, and ultimately it didn't even matter because Elliott found her in the spare room of her apartment, just as she hastily zipped up a duffel bag: nondescript, black, cheap. The custom-made luxury suitcase-and-carry-on set he'd bought for her last Christmas gathers dust in the corner of her walk-in robe, dismissed without a second thought. On a road-trip like this, Annika didn't want her baggage monogrammed, or otherwise tan, expensive, and made out of Saffiano leather.
The spare bed is a queen, nice and spacious for the guests Annika never has. It makes a good staging ground for her packing, the majority of which she's completed by the time Elliott stirs, realises the sheets beside him are cold, they have been for a while, and Annika is gone.
Well, no, Elliott. She's not gone, not yet.
"What are you doing?"
Most children learn to lie out of self-preservation. They've broken a plate, maybe, or a toy. Something small and inconsequential that, assuming they're a normal child with normal parents, does not and never will affect their livelihoods. Annika was a child once, but when she learned to lie, it was out of self-preservation of a much severer kind. When she lies now, it's easy, effortless; too much so. She feels that guilt again, though this time it's markedly more concerning, considering that when it comes to feeling bad about Kieran, she had an act to point to. At the very least, a body. Something to hold and furthermore something to let go. When it comes to Elliott, she has nothing but the lie. It's twice as heavy and half as palatable. She would rather kill a hundred former colleagues than lie straight to her boyfriend's face.
So she doesn't.
Not entirely.
"I've got to leave in the morning." This was true. See, she could be good.
"Since when?"
"Since a couple of hours ago."
"Right." Elliott leaned against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes. "You didn't even come to bed."
"I've been running errands all night. Got back late." A pause, she managed a smile. Because she refused to look at him, she doubted he even saw it. "You didn't even wait up for me."
"We're a bit old for that."
"Are we?"
"Where are you going?"
"Interstate." Again; true.
"Where interstate?"
"Mmm, I'm not entirely sure. My supervisor didn't give me a lot of details."
