Chapter 6 - The Dry Land
Ryan took one step forward, his wet boots heavy and loud.
"Maya, wait. We can talk about this. She’s sick."
Maya paused at the front door, her hand resting on the brass handle.
She looked back over her shoulder.
Linda was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, the wet pink robe pooling around her like dirty snow.
Her coral nails were digging into her own knees.
"She isn't sick, Ryan," Maya said, her voice steady and flat.
"She’s just cold."
Maya pulled open the heavy white door.
The crisp autumn air rushed inside, sweeping away the scent of lavender bleach and stale water.
Leo slipped his small, dry hand into her wet palm.
His fingers wrapped tightly around her thumb.
"Mommy’s hair is raining," Leo murmured as they stepped onto the porch.
"It stops when we walk," Maya replied softly.
May you like
She pulled the door shut behind them.
The latch caught with a sharp, heavy click that echoed through the quiet house.
