Dust

XXXIX

I awake to the peaceful singing of birds outside the guest bedroom's window, sunlight streaming into my eyes, causing me to squint. The room is still around me, my jacket still tossed over the back of the desk chair, my blade peeking up above the pocket. The closet door remains partially open, stuck on one of my boots, which I had shoved in there last night. The only thing different, even, is the fresh set of clothes hanging on my bathroom door—a pair of jeans and a basic tank, along with a pair of tennis shoes. As I roll out of bed with a sigh, I realize for the first time how much I truly miss home. Not that this hospitality isn't good enough.

Once I've readied myself, I push open the door out into the hall, finding it empty. Either it's a lot earlier than I thought, or everyone is out of the house for some reason. Determined to find some sort of breakfast, I slide my hands into my front pockets and jog down the stairs. Mrs. Echeart had assisted with my hair the other day, in the way my own mother usually does. She works magic with a flat iron, especially on the curls closest to my roots. The strands now float around my shoulders, as soft as clouds.

I'm expecting the kitchen to be empty, so am admittedly surprised when I find Shi seated at the table in the center of the room. It's a small, round, and wooden structure, obviously for small meals, and Shi leans over it, his eyes on something I can't see. A mug sits beside him, steam rising from it.

Even when I take a seat in front of him, he doesn't look up. "Good morning, Shi."

Now he does look up, the sun from the bay window lightening parts of his irises and darkening others. An almost undetectable breeze from the air conditioning moves tiny golden hairs atop his head; eyes widening underneath his glasses, Shi takes the item he was looking at and reaches to put it in his pocket. "Good morning—"

I grab his arm. "Hey," I say, nodding at whatever is in his fist. "Keeping secrets, are we? That's a shame. I trusted you."

Shi chortles, and as I release his arm, releases the item onto the table. I only look at it; it's a gold locket and chain, one I think I would have noticed if Shi was wearing. The locket is ovular, engraved with a C circled by a chain of roses. It's basic, but alluring. "A locket?"

"You can open it," Shi says, fiddling with his fingers as he watches me. Now that I have his permission, I cradle the locket in respectful fingers, popping it open. On one side of it is a picture of a middle-aged man, with the same golden hair and eyes as Shi, and on the other side is a woman with the same features. Without asking, I know who these people are.

"Your parents," I observe.

"Yeah," Shi answers. "Pathetic, I know. To carry a locket with them in it, even if they don't care about me anymore."

"It's not pathetic," I counter, shutting the locket and handing it back to him. He laughs, but I'm serious. Demanding his eye contact, I say, "Shi, it's not pathetic. You miss your family, I know you do, and I really believe that they miss you too."

He blinks, and for a second says nothing, then gives that same humorless laugh, itching at the back of his neck. "Don't be ridiculous. I've always been out of place in that house, since I was just a little kid. I'm the youngest, the smallest, the weirdest, the whatever-est of all the Carmichaels. Heck, when I was twelve I started looking for my birth parents, if you know what I mean."

"Shi..."

He frowns down at the locket once more, gnawing at his lip, then exhales and slips it back into his pocket. "I thought...you know, adoption had to be easier than this. I wanted an explanation. I got nothing. So, no, they don't miss me...except for maybe..."