Luna's Arc

Chapter 2 of 29

The torn page listed hundreds of names. Luna read every one twice. No addresses. No towns. No place to walk toward. She sat on a stump and pressed the paper flat on her knee. Names alone could not tell her where her parents had gone. She needed a direction, and the book gave her none. Then she saw it. In the soft dirt near the stump sat a single footprint. Bare toes, a deep heel, fresh at the edges. Someone had stood here, and not long ago. The book had failed her. The ground had not. Luna knelt and set her hand beside the print. It pointed deeper into the trees. She followed it. The print led to another, then a scuff, then a bent fern. Hours passed. Her legs burned and her mouth went dry. But the trail held, and she kept her eyes on the ground. At last the trees opened. A shed leaned in the clearing, older than the first, its boards gray and green with rot. The roof sagged low. Luna climbed the steps and pushed the door. It groaned open. A small black cat sat inside. It watched her with bright green eyes and did not run. On the floor lay a folded paper. Luna picked it up. The cat pressed against her shin, warm and steady. She unfolded the letter. The handwriting was neat and slanted. "I am sorry my love, my baby girl. Believe it or not, this was to give you a better chance at life. Love, Mom and Dad." Luna read it again. Her hands shook. This was not the note of someone who stole her. This was a goodbye. She thought of the locket, the two smiling faces. Maybe they had not thrown her away. Maybe they had left her here to save her from something worse. But the letter named no danger. It gave no place, no reason she could hold. "A better chance," she whispered. "Better than what?" The cat blinked. It had no answer. Luna folded the letter beside the torn page. The footprint trail had ended here, at this shed and this note. She had her answer to one question and a dozen new ones. She scooped up the cat and stepped outside. The trail was gone. The dirt past the shed showed no more prints. But something else caught her eye. A few steps off, a cluster of fat mushrooms swelled from the ground. Their caps bulged tight, orange and purple, stretched thin as balloons. One twitched. A low hiss leaked from a split in the nearest stem. Luna froze. The cat went stiff in her arms. She had followed a footprint to the truth about her parents. Now the only way forward led past those swollen, straining caps, and they looked ready to burst.