Echo Soul Seekers

wheel—this ancient heap of rust and metal predates power steering by a decade. About to pull onto the street, when Daire’s grandmother comes through the painted blue gate and looks right at me.
    “Although I’ve long suspected, I couldn’t be sure until now.” Her voice is light and breathy, as though returning to a prior conversation I don’t remember having. Confusing me further when she adds, “I’m so sorry.”
    I shrug. Rub my thumb over the wheel. There’s a lot to be sorry for lately, but my guess is she’s referring to my broken relationship with Daire.
    “You are better than the circumstances of your birth,” she says.
    Oh. That .
    “You must strive to rise above it. You hold the potential for greatness. You must never forget that.”
    She studies me, while I study my hands, unsure how to respond.
    “Whatever you do, please don’t beat yourself up. Your mother has indulged in enough self-recrimination for both of you, don’t you think?”
    I meet her gaze, wondering how she does it—how any of the elders do it. Paloma, Leftfoot, Chepi, and Chay—how do they remain so hopeful and optimistic in a world overflowing with pain?
    “Because we have no choice.” She smiles faintly, answering the thoughts in my head. “There will always be light and dark. How would we recognize one if not for the existence of the other?”
    I hold her gaze, knowing I have her full understanding and support. But too overcome by the shame of her knowing what I am—how I came to be, the hideous truth no one bothered to tell me—to appreciate the look of compassion she gives me.
    “You must fight the urge to fight fire with fire—no good will come of that. You must lean on your inner goodness and light.” She pats my arm for emphasis, her touch brief, fleeting, but comforting all the same.
    Then she steps away from the truck, pulls her cardigan tightly around her, and waves me away. The troubled look on her face blunted by the swirl of dust I stir in my wake.
    *   *   *
    When I pull into the school parking lot, the space next to Auden’s is free. But I know better than to park there. Keeping my distance starts here. Now. So I start to drive on, making for the other side, when I notice only two people climb out of Auden’s wagon, and Daire isn’t one of them.
    “Where is she?” I punch the brake hard. Search the area for some sign of her.
    Eyeballing Auden, who turns to Xotichl, who turns in my direction and says, “She never made it this far—she had us drop her in town.”
    “In town—why?” I rub a hand over my chin, trying to make sense of why she’d do such a thing. Watching as Xotichl chews her lip, deciding just how much she should tell me.
    Her shoulders rising and falling, she says, “Honestly, she’s up to something—I just don’t know what. All I can say for sure is that her energy was very determined. And, Dace, just so we’re on the same page—I know what happened yesterday. Which just makes me even more worried.”
    The car behind me honks. It’s Lita, lowering her window and greeting me with a sarcastic smile. “Hey—Dace. You taking that space or what? ’Cause if not, I’d really like to have it. Sometime today would be good!”
    My eyes meet Auden’s, seeing him shake his head and laugh as I wave Lita in. If Xotichl’s worried, I’m worried. And that’s all it takes for me to exit the lot as quickly as I entered.
    Telling myself I just need to see her. Make sure she’s okay. Once that’s done, I’ll head back to school, do what’s expected, and I won’t think about her again.
    But no matter how many times I repeat it, I know it’s not true.

 
    twelve
    Daire
    The bell on the door clangs loudly behind me, causing a handful of customers to stop what they’re doing long enough to give me a quick, appraising look.
    Gifford peers up from his register, eyes widening in recognition. He calls to me in a cheerful voice, saying, “Hey there—miss your bus? Fresh batch of postcards just arrived—they’re right over there.” He points toward the rack bearing depressing pictures of this miserable three-block town. Completely unaware that he’s just reminded me of one of the very worst times in my life. The day I nearly died just a few steps from here.
    Still, bad as that was, yesterday was worse. Much worse. With Paloma’s help, that broken leg I suffered outside the Rabbit Hole took only a few weeks to heal. If today doesn’t go as planned, my broken heart