Page 31 of Molt

He doesn’t answer immediately. “Your body is changing.”

“Fantastic. I gathered that when I shed my fucking leg.”

“It’s replacing itself.”

“With what?”

Silence.

I already know. I don’t want him to say it.

“August.”

“Me.”

The word slides beneath the door.

Quiet.

Impossible.

I stare at the wood separating us.

“That’s not possible.”

“I know.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I’ve had a long time to realize how impossible it is.”

My arms wrap around my stomach. “Why you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you have pieces of me?”

“Because I kept them.”

“Why?”

Silence.

“August.”

“Because they’re all I have left when you’re gone.”

Something in my chest pulls hard and I don’t like it.

“Where do I go?”

“You don’t.”

“What does that mean?”