Mama'd been first to learn. Might've been the first time Lucas had ever been scared.

She'd come in without knocking again. He'd looked at her blank-eyed, little hands still taking apart an old remote. She'd asked him about the smell. I caught me a bird, he'd said. Was waitin' for it to turn into bones.

He'd felt some cold burn rise in his veins even then. Up and up.

It'd burst into a flood when Mama first opened the attic. Saturated by the time she doubled and whimpered into her hand.

Don't lemme get in trouble, he'd said. Tiny.

Please...?


July 20th. "Discovery".