<—Prologue
Part 1
The breeze was crisp, with the hint of green riding the chilled edge. For weeks, Kayla had watched the slow transformation from winter’s dormant brown, to the hopeful green of spring. The air still held a chill that kept most of the residents in the neighborhood indoors. But not Kayla. She yearned for the sun and the open air with near desperation. Being restrained and locked away; that was her nightmare. One that she’d already suffered through and escaped.
While her waking memories were for the most part locked away, she still had trouble sleeping at night, often jolting awake with her heart racing and sweat saturating the cotton of her pajamas until it clung to her in suffocating heat. No one could really tell her what had happened, only how she’d come to be found. As far as law enforcement was concerned, discovering an emaciated terrified toddler in the woods was just another cold case mystery, but one that at least hadn’t involved finding a child’s body.
Last night had been another bad episode for her; dreams once again flashing with memories she couldn’t quite grasp hold of. The sickly rotten aroma of unwashed bodies, fear, and stale urine had flooded her senses. A scream in the distance, echoing to nothing as she jerked awake. Her body shook as she stared into the dim light of the room, searching for the shadows of her past, but knowing they were just out of reach.
A cold nose gently nudged against her hand, quickly followed by the brush of soft fur. Phoebe demanded her attention, and Kayla obliged, stroking the golden retriever. Nothing else in the room moved, and after a few moments of concentrated deep breathing, she let her gaze fix on the glow emanating from the little plug-in light next to her bed. Between Phoebe’s gentle patience, and the pale golden light spilling out from the wall, she was able to refocus her thoughts and drag herself back from the dark edge of panic.
With a shaky breath, she pulled herself out of bed. It was earlier than she’d wanted to be up, but not unusual. Shedding her sweat-soaked pajamas, she pulled out a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a sweater. Early morning runs were good therapy and Phoebe always seemed to enjoy the time outside, especially now that the weather was transitioning into spring.
When she finished getting dressed, she looked over to her canine companion. Phoebe waited, a cheerful doggy grin in place as her eyes followed the young woman’s movements. A subtle gesture of her hand, and the dog fell in line beside her, and together they moved through the house, stopping at the front door. Phoebe sat in front of it, posture relaxed as her tongue lolled out, waiting as Kayla clipped her leash on. All was well on the other side. Kayla opened the door, and together they headed out, embraced by the cool morning wind.
A sweet trilling whistle intermittently broke the silence of the morning. The birds up north were certainly different from the ones she had grown up with. Some days, Kayla missed the mockingbirds, but there was something almost mystical about the strange-to-her birds in her neighborhood. Just as there seemed to be a touch of magic to the coming of spring. That alone was a miracle, as she’d once believed that she was incapable of finding wonder or true joy in the world.
Phoebe nudged her hand, a gentle reminder to pull her out of the darker corners of her own mind. It was something she was prone to, and people would sometimes cast her pitying looks—or annoyed ones—depending on the situation. Since she’d been paired with Phoebe, she’d gotten better about it, but doubted she’d ever truly be ‘cured’.
“Come on, Feebs...” She uttered on a sigh.
Phoebe came to attention, matching pace with Kayla as she set out at a relaxed jog. The cool air whipped against her, eliciting a faint grin. Fresh air—cool, crisp. The freedom to run. The safety of her trained canine companion. So long as Phoebe was with her, she could keep the shadows at bay.
The sleepy little houses on her block remained dark, but in the dim light of a rising sun, she could see a smattering of bright yellow dandelions as they pushed up from the patches of green growth mixed in with the still dormant brown. Of all the flowers she’d ever seen, dandelions were her favorite. It was such a shame they only bloomed in spring. Thousands of cheerful yellow splashes against a vibrant green backdrop, but gone within a matter of weeks. They were like cherry blossoms for Americans. A brief glimmer of beauty—new life—and then gone in a puff of white, like a child’s wish upon the wind.
Phoebe veered into her leg, throwing her off balance just enough to blink back into the now. They were cornering the block, and up ahead was a running trail that wound through a park and some wooded areas. Oddly, considering where she’d been found as a toddler, she had no fear for the wild areas of nature. It was man’s concrete jungle that brought a cold, sinking dread to her gut.
With a quick glance to her companion, she put on a burst of speed, heading onto the footpad trail through the trees. There was just enough room for her and Phoebe to lope side-by-side. She just had to keep her head in the now, otherwise Phoebe might send her sprawling off the path. It was an odd relationship she shared with the golden retriever, but it worked. It was much more dangerous for her to get lost in her head than it was for her to trip over a dead log. Or a goofy dog.
The sun was gaining on the eastern horizon and she had to squint, head tilted down, to avoid being completely blinded. Rather than trying to watch the path ahead, she kept her gaze on Phoebe and took her cues from the canine, who seemed quite unaffected by the glaring sun.
The path wound through skeletal trees, but as she slowed down to catch her breath and duck beneath the outstretched limb of a bare tree, she gasped, awestruck. Phoebe had led her toward a clearing blanketed by a sea of dandelions. Somehow, spring had overtaken this small section of the park, and not a single patch of brown grass could be seen. A bird trilled in the distance, the sound echoing sweetly through the morning stillness, and Kayla couldn’t help but to smile in response.
Phoebe leaned into her, mouth opening in a lazy canine grin. Taking her cue from the dog, Kayla stepped into the meadow, pausing to lift a dried vine out of her path. As she pushed it away, a sharp sting of pain splintered across her finger and she yelped, jerking her hand away from the vine. Almost immediately she lifted her finger to her mouth, sucking on the small wound to stop the bleeding. Annoyed, she glared at the vine. It waved gently in the breeze, and she could just see the faintest smudge of blood smeared over one of its thorns.
For a moment, she felt a weird dropping in her gut—not quite fear—but a sense of foreboding. In a flash, the oddest thought flooded her mind. It had her taste, now. Whatever it was.
Phoebe whined, stepping away and tugging on the leash. The motion drew Kayla’s focus away from the vine, her strange thoughts, and the oddly blooming meadow, and back to the dog at her side. Looking nervously around, she retreated, following Phoebe’s direction. As one, they turned, jogging back the way they’d come, retracing the route to her house.
The sun was fully out now and up ahead she could hear the faint tinkling of children’s laughter as the neighborhood kids raced to play outdoors, escaping the grumbling of their sleep-deprived parents on the early Saturday morning.