UNSEEN: Undone Realms Book 1

Gift

It's Nolan's birthday today.

Clara thinks back but cannot recall a single occasion when someone at the hotel has referred to him as "Nolan." They say "Hey you, go clean up the puke in room 131," or "Empty the trash when you're done with that, kid." No one at this hotel wears a nametag. None of the employees like their jobs enough to become overly personal with their coworkers. No one, at least not when Clara is listening in, says his name.

But now she can say it. In his rush to leave the room, Nolan forgets his wallet on the nightstand. It's open, and his driver's license is plainly visible. His name is Nolan Vincent Reyes, his birthday is the sixth of September, and he's not from Centralia, Washington. His home is someplace called Encino, California.

Clara wonders what Encino is like and also what it would be like to have more than one name. Clara is just Clara. She doesn't understand why Nolan would leave California and come here, where he seems to know no one and no one cares to know him.

Except for her, of course.

Clara wants to leave the room. The longer she stays here, the more invasive she feels. There is a moral downside to all of the spying she's done on the breathing, after all. Not that she means any harm, of course. But she scared Nolan and she's awfully sorry about it. She will respect his private space from now on. He shouldn't have to worry about her appearing in front of him in his own room.

The pool might be a nice place to pass the day, which is warm and sunny. But first, Clara decides to leave Nolan a birthday message. She doesn't give the decision pause, even though the act is a futile one. Things she touches, moves around, writes on—all of it fails to be noticed by the breathing people. How is that possible? Then again, how is it possible that she can continue to grow and exist without eating or breathing?

When you are someone in Clara's situation, you can only question so much.

Nolan won't see her note, but that's not the point. The point is to do something nice for someone, even if that person will never know it's been done.

Clara takes Nolan's pen and a piece of the hotel's stationary.

Happy Birthday, Nolan.

Your friend, Clara.

Clara places the note on his pillow and leaves the room. She intends to spend the day swimming and will try to forget that the only human who is aware that she exists wishes she didn't.