The Sanctuary Beyond the Undergrowth

I feel sick. I haven’t written in a while, because I’ve been too busy lying in bed and waiting for the sick to go away. Mother came in and checked my temperature, felt my forehead, and asked me if I needed to talk to anyone. His name met my lips, but I held it in and shook my head, telling her the sick would go away soon.

While I lied there, in my bed, trying to sleep, I thought of Keith’s missing pieces again.

He had gone to find them, probably, but he didn’t know he took some of me with him.