Free A Latent Dark by Martin Kee

reached in!
    Skyla bit her cheek, fighting the urge to yell at him as he pulled out the goggles. He held them in front of his face and played with the hinge. He grabbed the knobs on the side and adjusted those. He gripped the rings around the lens and twisted. Skyla held her breath, fully expecting them to disintegrate him on the spot— not that he doesn’t deserve it , she thought.
    He continued to inspect the goggles for a full minute as Skyla bit her tongue in protest. Appearing satisfied, James placed them neatly back into the bag and turned. Skyla closed the door before he could see her there.
    She stood with her back wet against the wood of the door. She had never felt this level of violation, not even in the schoolyard. She got dressed, her anger fading. His shadow was interesting. Very interesting. She would have to take a better look, maybe after he went to bed.
    The flannel shirt did indeed fit her like an overcoat. She rolled up the sleeves and left the room feeling almost human again. From the kitchen she caught James giving her a suspicious glance as she walked from the washroom.
    He placed the pot on the counter and walked over to meet her in the living room. She sat in front of the couch facing the fire as he passed by her. He lowered himself into the large chair opposite the couch and cleared his throat.
    “I looked in your backpack,” he said.
    Skyla blinked back surprise at the confession. She said nothing.
    “You told me you were from Bollingbrook,” he said. “Those goggles in there, are those from Bollingbrook?”
    “I don’t know where they’re from,” she said. “They were a gift.”
    He gave her an accusatory stare. Adults liked to use it when they thought they were catching you in a lie. She didn’t care for it at all, especially from him.
    James sat with his elbows on his knees now, fingertips steepled as he questioned her. This wasn’t dinner. This was an inquisition.
    “They were a gift,” she said. “From my aunt.”
    “Your aunt lives in Bollingbrook?”
    “No. I don’t know where she lives,” she lied.
    “Really?”
    “Really.” She continued to stare at the fire, trying to hide any emotion that might be construed as deceit.
    “So you don’t live with your aunt.”
    “I don’t live with anyone.”
    “You’re orphaned.”
    “No, well. I don’t know. I don’t know my father.”
    “What about your mother?”
    There was a pause. “She was killed.” She didn’t know any other way to say it without sounding insane.
    James raised an eyebrow. “Killed… killed how?”
    She gave him a cold look. “If I told you, you’d think I was crazy.”
    James froze for a moment, and then leaned back in his chair. Skyla turned to the fire and stared at it, trying to cleanse her mental palette of this conversation.
    He cleared his throat. “I’m… sorry about the way I treated your pet bird. I’ll leave something out for him overnight.”
    “You said he’d be fine on his own.”
    He looked as if she had slapped him. She felt small, small enough for him to crush under his boot if he wanted to.
    “Sorry,” she said. “Thank you.”
    They sat in silence as the conversation drowned in its own awkwardness, each of them lost in their own thoughts, until Skyla interrupted the quiet with a monstrous yawn. James got up on cue and grabbed a bundle of skins from a pile and a blanket from a chest. He threw them onto the couch and then walked over to the wall.
    He grabbed a hidden latch. Skyla watched with amazement as the entire side of the wall unfolded in an elaborate display of wooden hinges and swivels. The wall panels swung underneath silently, as a complete and sturdy bed appeared out of nowhere.
    “That’s… that’s really neat,” she said.
    James stood next to it with pride. “Thanks. I made it ages ago.”
    Skyla yawned again and James vanished into the back room. When he returned, Skyla had to stifle another giggle. She had thought he looked ridiculous in the apron,