Aisling Murphy's Arc

Chapter 1 of 12

Aisling Murphy stood at the cliff's edge with a fist full of wildflowers. She was eight years old, in a boy's brown coat, her black ponytail loose in the wind. She tipped her head back and watched the pale light wash over the sky. That was all she wanted, just to look up a while longer. Below her, the mountain dropped into deep shadow and loose rock. A small dog barked at her heels. The chihuahua puppy chased her shoelaces, round eyes bright, tail spinning. Aisling laughed and spun too. She did not watch her feet. The ground gave way. One flower slipped from her hand. Then the whole world tilted. She fell. Her head struck stone, and the sky went dark. The puppy leaned over the edge and barked. She barked again, and again, a sharp little sound that would not stop. Up the slope, a woman heard it. Ember Ashworth ran the orphanage where Aisling slept each night. She was twenty-five, and she knew that bark meant the girl. Her long skirt caught on brush as she climbed. "Peaches!" she called. "Where is she? Show me." The puppy raced down the rocks and Ember followed. At the bottom she found Aisling crumpled in the dirt, still, flowers scattered near her open hand. Ember dropped to her knees. "No. No, little one." She pressed two fingers to the girl's neck. A pulse beat there, faint but steady. Ember gathered Aisling into her arms. The girl was lighter than she expected. She stood, braced her feet on the loose stone, and climbed. Peaches ran ahead, looking back at every turn. Ember did not stop until the warm wood house rose in front of her, its green shutters and long porch familiar now. She laid Aisling on a bed inside and shouted for someone to fetch the doctor. Then she sat and held the small cold hand. "Stay with me," she said. "You hear me? Stay." Minutes passed. Aisling's eyelids moved. Then her green eyes opened. She stared at the ceiling, then at the woman beside her. "You're awake." Ember's voice broke with relief. "Thank goodness. Do you hurt anywhere?" Aisling frowned. She touched the sore spot on her head. "Who are you?" she asked. Ember's smile froze. "It's me. You live here. With me and the others." "I don't," Aisling said slowly. "I don't know this room. I don't know you." Her eyes filled. "I don't know my own name." The puppy jumped onto the bed and licked her chin. Aisling flinched from the dog she had chased an hour ago. Ember gripped the bedpost. The fall had not taken the girl's life. It had taken something else. She rose fast and went to the door. "The doctor," she said, loud and firm. "Now. Hurry." Behind her, Aisling pulled the blanket to her chin and watched a stranger leave the room.