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believe he is, that doesn’t mean
he’s going to admit it or anything else, including knowing
Lev.
    “ Really.” His voice is
flat, and he’s so completely still he even seems to be a part of
the furniture, not a human being. Or an angel—if he is one. But
maybe I’m seeing things—seeing what I want to see. “And who do I
remind you of?” His voice sounds rougher than I’ve heard thus far.
I just wish I could see his face and read his
expression.
    “ Lev.” It’s a half-whisper
that almost dies before I can utter it.
    For a moment he just stands there, silent as
a stone. Then he slowly turns, and a frown deepens the furrows in
his forehead. His jaw clenches, and his eyes fix on my mine.
    “ How did I know you were
going to say that?” His lips part slightly, and he looks as though
I slapped him. He walks to the chair in front of my desk and slowly
sits down. Clasping his hands, he leans over and closes his eyes.
After a deep breath, he peers at me.
    “ You remind me of him.” I
say again, not knowing what else to say.
    “ That’s not uncommon,
Elizabeth.” He stares into my eyes, piercing me with the blueness
of his own. “After someone we love dies, we tend to see them
everywhere and in everyone. I don’t know if that is our way of
protecting ourselves. Or whether it’s just a sick joke. I don’t
know if maybe some part of the person remains behind and every so
often, when things come together in a certain way, we see
them.”
    I squint, searching for the aura around him,
but it has gone. Now Scott looks just like everyone else, and
something inside of me breaks.
    “ I guess you think I’m just
a stupid teenage girl.”
    “ Nope. Just somebody who’s
had her heart broken. There’s no shame in that.” He pats my
shoulder and gives me a scrap of paper.
    “ What’s this?” I start to
unfold it.
    “ My number. In case you
need somebody to talk to before you go walking into another
shoot-out.”
    I try to think of something—anything—to say,
but my throat is dry, and suddenly I’m so tired I just want to
sleep and forget this day ever happened. This time, when Scott
reaches the door, he keeps going, and I just crawl into my bed and
draw the covers up over my head, wondering if I can just sleep the
rest of my life away.

    The next few days pass pretty much in a blur
of solitude, with Jimmie heading off to work leaving me in an empty
house full of boxes I’m supposed to unpack. Trouble is, unpacking
only leads to mucho boredom, which, in my case isn’t a good thing.
It makes me think of Lev.
    Then again, there isn’t much which doesn’t
make me think of Lev.
    Still, I do the box thing, as much as I can,
and I head out to the lake near our house after I jot a note for
Jimmy; it’s not that I expect him home any time soon, but if I
don’t, I’m afraid what little sanity is left rattling around inside
his head will evaporate. It feels good to shed the stillness of the
house. The lake is one of the few perks of this whole Walden thing
Jimmie always seems to want to drag me into. I’m guessing he
believes sooner or later this supposed tranquility will eventually
sink in with me so he can stop worrying. But there is no cure for
this restless pain except Lev, and I won’t stop until I find
him.
    Still, the lake is pretty right now. Half of
it seems placid whereas a gaggle of geese has splashed down towards
the opposite bank, rippling the water so the reflection is unclear.
Along the bank is a flourish of cattails and tall reeds, hiding the
waterline. Sunlight glitters off the area which is still and glints
back harshly, half-blinding me.
    Although it’s a perfect day, when I look
around, the lake is deserted as far as I can see, and further
around the left side of the water, I spot a beach area where the
winds have rippled the sand into soft dune, begging for my feet to
sluice through. In anticipation, I wriggle my toes against my flip
flops and trudge that way, ignoring the heat. Although