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Until Rae.

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KIR

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO

THE DALTON SCHOOL — STUDENT ABSENCE RECORD

Student:Lazarev, Kirill A. | Grade 7

Dates Absent:March 15–28, 2007

COUNSELOR'S NOTE:Upon return, student presented as withdrawn, non-communicative. Previously strong academic performance declined sharply.

When asked about his mother, student said: "She's gone."

When asked about his father, student said nothing.

It’s dawn. I’ve been in this closet for hours.

My legs fell asleep a long time ago, but I don’t move them, because if I move them, Papa might hear, and if Papa hears, he might do to me what he just did to Mama.

I was supposed to be spending the night at Cayden’s house. But Cayden got food poisoning, so his mom dropped me off back home. I didn’t call to say I was coming back; I thought maybe Icould sneak up and yellbooand Mama would laugh and call me her little fox the way she always does.

But then I saw.

Through the window, Isaw.

Papa was at the counter with his back to me, hunched over something. His shoulders kept shaking. I thought maybe he was crying, which was weird because Papa never cries; Papa is made of stone and ice. But then he turned sideways and I could see what he was doing.

He was crushing pills. White pills, lots of them, grinding them up with the back of a spoon. The powder went into a bowl of applesauce.

Mama’sapplesauce.

Papa stirred and stirred and the white powder disappeared into the yellow mush and then he picked up the bowl and walked out of the kitchen.

Toward Mama’s room.

I ran down the hall and into the closet that used to be my hiding spot when I was little and Mama and Papa would chase me around the house, pretending to be monsters.

I’m not a little kid—I’m twelve now—so I don’t believe in monsters anymore. But this still seemed like a good place to stay out of sight.

I pulled the door shut behind me and clamped both hands over my mouth.

That was hours ago.

At first, I heard voices from down the hall. Papa and Mama. They argued. They’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Then they got quiet.

Soon, I heard footsteps. When I pressed my eye to the crack between the closet doors, I saw Papa walking past.

Mama was in his arms.

She was wearing her red dress and her head hung back over the crook of Papa’s elbow. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open a little bit, like she was about to say something but forgot what it was.

She wasn’t moving.

She wasn’t movingat all.