and over the sleeping quarters of the house. The high half-wall made my
bedroom private, but not closed in.
"I thought you were going to sleep the day away." Gram greeted me with a
kiss on the cheek and handed me a plate filled with fresh fruit, fluffy pancakes,
and two slices of thick, crispy bacon.
“Good morning, Gram, this looks great.” I threw on my fake smile, forcing
myself to be cheery.
She gently touched my forearm before returning to the stove to stir the pot of
berries she was slowly cooking.
I flopped into the seat by my sister and took a long sip of the tea that had been waiting for me. It was the perfect temperature. For some reason, even the
delicious breakfast and giggles of Meg could not break the gloomy mood I was
in.
“Can I have your pancakes, Mar?” Meg whispered while eyeing our
grandmother. “Gram only made me a tiny stack, and they are sooooo good!”
Meg's big green eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes, pleading were hard
to resist. “Just one.” I slid it onto her plate and tapped her on the nose with my
finger.
“What about the bacon?” Meg asked with a sly smile. “Mar ahhhh…”
Using the nickname she had given me usually was the key to her getting her
way with me. Marina Addisyn Stone was the name I was given, and nicknames
from childhood friends came and went. Then along came Meg and her inability
to pronounce Marina. Her name for me became the name I loved the most –
Mara.
“You may be pushing it, kid.” I laughed.
Gram quietly chuckled before turning away from the sink to give me a wink
— her silent blessing to continue.
Once Meg ate the last bite of her breakfast and helped clear my plate, she gave her standard thumbs-up, confirming the meal was delicious. I couldn't help
but laugh at how cute my little sister could be.
“Gram, you didn't eat anything.” I placed the cleared dishes in the sink and
began to wash them. “You need to keep your strength up to keep up with Meg.”
“I know, love.” Gram took the plate I was washing and put it back into the
sink. "Let these soak."
I looked over at my sister, who had moved to a small game table in the living
room. The stuffed animals she had lined up were getting a lecture on the
importance of eating breakfast. The smell of cinnamon, vanilla, and lavender filled my nose as Gram drew me into her arms and tightly hugged me.
“Gram, do you think we'll ever see her again? I don't understand how she
could just disappear, and no one knows where she went for so long.”
Gram's eyes grew dark as they always did when I asked about my mother.
She cleaned a dish and handed it to me, nodding at a nearby kitchen towel. This
