The Boy and the Locked Drawer

Jame found her before the sun did.

Aria had been awake since four, scrubbing a kitchen that didn't need scrubbing, because motion was the only thing that kept the memories from catching up. When she turned around, he was sitting on the counter stool in his pajamas, swinging his feet, watching her the way a cat watches a bird.

"You're still here," he said, almost accusing.

"I'm still here."