She doesn't know what to say to that. It's okay. But it isn't. It won't be.
Pentecost told her. He told her. He's been lurking behind every eyeblink and hush of breath and in the edgeless blur of the drift leaking at the corners of her mind where Raleigh was. It's where he said he would be. The drift.
She has a dead father and a dead mother whose faces she loses a little more of with each passing year because no photos survived, and she has a dead brother who was never her brother to begin with Yancy, Yancy because the drift is so tangling and immediate and she never would have known and would that have changed anything.
"Okay," she says. Okay. It won't be okay, maybe it never will be again - she doesn't know. But - okay. Her life has shifted again, and she will be nameless again. It would be easier, she thinks, if she did not have quite so many people living in her head. A pilot who screams her name. A brother she doesn't have.
"Where should I go?" she asks him, her eyes roving over sidewalk, the words quiet and short.
no subject
Pentecost told her. He told her. He's been lurking behind every eyeblink and hush of breath and in the edgeless blur of the drift leaking at the corners of her mind where Raleigh was. It's where he said he would be. The drift.
She has a dead father and a dead mother whose faces she loses a little more of with each passing year because no photos survived, and she has a dead brother who was never her brother to begin with Yancy, Yancy because the drift is so tangling and immediate and she never would have known and would that have changed anything.
"Okay," she says. Okay. It won't be okay, maybe it never will be again - she doesn't know. But - okay. Her life has shifted again, and she will be nameless again. It would be easier, she thinks, if she did not have quite so many people living in her head. A pilot who screams her name. A brother she doesn't have.
"Where should I go?" she asks him, her eyes roving over sidewalk, the words quiet and short.