Undiscovered (Unremembered #1.5)(36)

“… human.”

The two syllables hang in the air like a puff of stale smoke, waiting for the wind to determine which way they will drift. How long they will stay.

When I look down at Jane again, her forehead is furrowed and I immediately fear that I’ve failed at my attempt to entertain her. “But she wasn’t an animal,” she argues, confusion soaked into her small voice.

“N-no,” I try to explain, stammering slightly, “I meant, she didn’t feel … real.”

Jane is pensive. She appears to be absorbing everything I said. Analyzing it. Deciding whether or not this qualifies as a satisfactory story.

“If she wasn’t real,” she finally says, “then she wouldn’t have been able to run away from the bad people. That was a good choice.”

My smile is strained. “I suppose it was.”

There’s a long silence in which neither one of us speaks or looks at the other. Finally, I feel a soft tug on the sleeve of my shirt. I glance down to see that Jane has ever so carefully peeled away the cuff to reveal the thin, black mark underneath.

She studies it for a moment. Then, with surprising boldness, she reaches out with one tiny finger—barely a twig—and touches it. Sweeps along the length of the line. Delicate. Like a baby mouse running across my skin. Back and forth. Back and forth.

I don’t say anything. I don’t try to move away. I just watch. And feel.

“She needs to hide really well.” Jane finally speaks, her voice quiet but steady. Unusually wise for her age.

She removes her hand, allowing the sleeve to fall back into place, concealing the inside of my left wrist once again. “So they can never ever find her.”

She looks up at me, her blue eyes liquid and sparkling.

My bottom lip starts to tremble. I bite down on it hard. Small droplets of blood trickle onto my tongue. I swallow them.

“Yes,” I say, trying to ignore the bitter metallic taste in my mouth. “She does.”