it's not something she can get into without raising any flags, her desperation for a tangible past. no matter how much she'd like to. there weren't many people aware of kevin's background, with even fewer left on speaking terms. its secrecy almost more isolating than all those years stuck in that house. 〝 no, not at all, 〞 she admits. 〝 i like this, wet and overcast. and the green. if i was any less uncoordinated i would be spending hours out there. 〞 not outdoorsy by any means, still nature has a way of calling out to her. be it the small park outside her apartment or the vast forestry which surrounds their town. in nice weather, there's no other place kevin would rather be. 〝 um, i don't know. 〞 beat. 〝 i mean, i do have one. i just can't be sure i didn't dream it up. 〞 that goes for most of her memories before the kidnapping. so much of her time afterwards spent being gaslit by sister dearest, conjuring up false memories of outings and birthdays. it took a confession, and a hefty amount of mockery, for the illusion to break. she's ashamed still. 〝 there's a picture. sometimes i think i remember the day it was taken, but it might only be my imagination, you know? filling in the gaps. 〞 it's generic enough, something any twenty - something would have to say about their childhood. 〝 i must've been around four or five. do you remember anything from that age? 〞
❛ i thought you might want to see the world. ❜ out of all the youth in this town kevin seemed the most affected by stories in the most unobvious of ways. quiet - like the way one might wander hallowed halls of a historic museum, gazing upon exhibits with muted wonder, only instead of wonder, it felt more like curiosity in arrested development. it's surprising, that she wouldn't seek to go further out, discover more that way.
she doesn't question it too much, maybe kevin lingers for the same reasons marion keeps coming back to this town. even if only for a month at a time, just to slip the other sheathes of her life off like old coats.
marion's chin digs further into her palm, head canting into its anchor, eyes keen and unwavering. ❛ sure. i remember... blue leather seats, in my dad's car. i remember, cake. drawings. what do you think you remember about this photograph ? ❜










