Free Dollhouse by Anya Allyn Page B

zipper. Sticking my head out, something colder even than the air landed on my face. Flakes of white twirled and danced from the inky blue sky.
    Snow.
    A figure sat on the fallen tree, hunched against the wind. He tossed a stone hard into the rocks in front of the campsite.
    “Ethan?”
    He turned slightly.
    Pushing my feet into galoshes, I stomped over to him. The scream sounded again—more distant this time.
    I clamped my hands over my head. “Did you hear it?”
    “That’s the Barking Owl. It has a scream like nothing on earth.”
    “That was an
owl
? Wow. Does everything out here sound human?”
    “Nope. The Tasmanian Devils sound more like a mix between lions and dogs.”
    “I think I heard them the other night. Sounded like a pack of lion cubs fighting.”
    “Yep—that would be them.”
    Sitting beside him, I held out a hand to catch a snowflake. It melted on my hand.
    Real snow
. I hadn’t seen snow, ever. 
    “Can’t believe it’s actually snowing.”
    I wanted to ask him where he’d been all this time, but knew he wouldn’t tell me. Shrugging in reply, he moved as though to get up.
    I placed a hand on his arm. “Have you eaten?”
    “Enough.”
    “You don’t look as though you’re eating enough to stay alive.”
    “You two should get off the mountains.”
    “We’re leaving tomorrow. Happy?”
    “See it my way. Like it or not, I’ve had to watch out for you two as well as me. If something happened to one of you—who do you think would get the blame?”
    Snow licked my nose with an icy tongue. I drew my hood overhead. “I guess I didn’t think of it that way. I know it’s risky for you just coming up here. Maybe...  you should come back with us. They've got no evidence against you, and you've done nothing wrong. I mean, so what if you stole a car? It's not the worst thing in the world...."
    I wished I could bite back my words as soon as they’d thudded from my mouth. Words could be icebergs—small and insignificant when you first felt them in your mouth—but huge and terrible when they emerged.
    He kicked out at a shrub. “How do you know about that? Anyway, it’s my fricking business, don’t you think?”
    “I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”
    “Because you think I’m some thief and you’ve assigned yourself to my case?”
    “No, I just…. “
    “You think I took the car for kicks, right?”
    I stared up into the bowl of blackness—not knowing what to answer.
    “Well I didn’t. I took it for Granddad.”
    “You took it for him?”
    Ethan sighed with his shoulders “He can’t get up here in the mountains anymore. He's been sick, and anyway, they took his driver's license away. He had one good day—one day with that shine back in his eyes—so I borrowed a car and took him up here. If the neighbor hadn’t noticed his car missing, all would have been cool. But he did notice.”
    “Why... why didn’t you tell that to the police? About your grandfather being sick and that?”
    “Granddad isn’t sick as in anything physical. I don’t know what it is and he gets angry if I talk to him about it. Some days he’s just different—he doesn't like the things he used to and can’t even seem to know who I am sometimes. I can’t tell anyone, because he doesn’t want that. He wants to live at home, in his own house. After all he’s done for me—I have to make hell sure no one takes him away.”
    “I’m sorry. My grandmother back in Miami had something like that. She didn’t know who I was, either. She even forgot who
she
was, and they had to tape a photo of her to her room in the nursing home—just so she remembered herself each day.”
    Icy air cut around my face, needling through my clothing. “Is your granddad okay by himself?”
    “He’s okay, most days. He can take care of himself. At least, I hope he can.” He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know if he can.”
    Neither of us spoke for a minute or so, darkness swallowing us. Ethan studied my face, pain