Keychains ✔

VII

I liked to perceive myself as observant. Smart. On the same wavelength with those around me. If they preferred to drift about, I'd let them. If they caused up a storm, I'd do my best to steer us to safety. Independence didn't mean solitude. It fostered the opposite: the need to connect with others. Being socially adept was what guided you to independence, and it created a safety net to catch you when you fell. I thought I had become good at it.

But my parents never failed to surprise me.

Mom: Yes, of course. What time?

Nora: This Sunday, in the morning. Over Skype. I have work so that's the only time available.

Mom: Always the early bird. That shouldn't be a problem.

It was like treading on ice. I'd never put so much thought into my text messages before. This was taking me closer to the answers I needed. Not only for the house but what the key had shown me, too.

Wondering if this was silly, the door chime to the confectionery jingled above my head. It took me a moment longer to return Mrs. Wiśniewski's smile as she bustled out with a box of pumpkin-spiced chocolates in hand. The outdoors chill seeped into the brightly lit shop.

La Pâtisserie Dans La Lune, Hannah had told me, was named in honour of her parents' astute remark: "Always in the clouds, that girl! Next thing you know she'll sprout wings." Naturally her confectionery lived up to its namesake. Aerial photographs of historic sites in France hung on the walls. Fresh pastries sat primly in the counter's display case. I placed my purse and umbrella on the shop's only table, decorated with wispy clouds. It eluded me why Hannah chose such a small space for her shop. Despite being here for six years, and the growing popularity of her shop, Hannah had hung onto this wedge of property.

Where were the personal touches that Hannah loved to add to her own home? I was so used to her going all out, especially for fall. Aside from the orange fairy lights, there was little seasonal decor. It was a shame; Hannah's shop was one of the few that wasn't automatically buried in Halloween decorations the minute October hit.

At the counter, Emmanuel tilted his chin up in greeting. Today small green beads hung on the tips of his dreadlocks. A plain star tattoo peeked from his collar. He set down his jacket and put his hands on the counter. "Nora. Anything for today?"

"Not now, thank you. You're ending your shift?"

"Oni and I wanted to be home together for a change. And to talk with Vihan," Emmanuel sighed, shaking his head.

Uh-oh. "Go easy on him, okay? Well, not like I would know," I said quickly.

Emmanuel and I were amiable at best. I liked to think we stepped on each other toes too often with our perceptiveness, and that was why. But in my defense, admitting that he knew I had unrequited feelings for Hannah before I was ready to come to terms with it—and a week within meeting the other, mind you—was not a smart move. It was easy to assume his power of perception came from an unordinary ability. Then again, if I treated everyone I met with that mindset, it wouldn't get me anywhere.

Emmanuel deliberated. He drummed his hands on the counter. "I'm going to take a wild guess. Did he tell you something I'm not aware of? Yeah? That's fine, he's like that." It clearly was not fine, but he continued, "Oni is getting the help he needs. We hadn't had an open talk in some time, and I hadn't been clear with Vihan. He barely talks to me these days. I don't even know what's going on in school."

That struck a chord. It was easy to emphasize with both sides, but how to take action? I heard the same thought echoed in Emmanuel's voice. I said, "Do you think it'll work?"