The fog that Sheva was living in had become so pervasive that she didn’t even notice anything different when she came home from school. She didn’t notice her father’s car in the driveway or the fact that the other kids were conspicuously absent. She just headed listlessly to her room walking right past the dining room without registering the three place settings and the platter of her favorite brownies.
She set her bag on her desk. She didn’t throw it down with an anguished crash or drop it lightly with a contrived nonchalance. She just set it down robotically on the desk and lay down stiffly on the bed. That’s how she felt these days. Stiff. Empty. Like she was set on autopilot while the real Sheva was… where? Gone?
She couldn’t take this much longer.
An idea germinating over the past few days suddenly blossomed in Sheva’s mind and without having to think about it she knew exactly what she would do next. The thought brought an instantaneous sense of relief; now she had a plan.
