❝𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀❞ ━ TREECH

55. a broken boy

“They usually don’t come back unless they forgot something, but they had all their stuff,” Daisy says. “Maybe someone had an accident and they were sent home for the day, but... Buck’s ax is missing.”

June’s mouth gapes open when she realizes the woman is right. She supports her a bit more firmly as they walk, Daisy’s steps careful but persistent as she navigates her way towards the front door with her aching ankle. The pit in her stomach grows with every step they take, and her previous excitement has been replaced by worry and anxiety.

At first, it almost seems like the house is empty. They hear the floorboards creaking beneath their feet, the soft pitter-patter of the leaky tab, and their own breathing. The scent of tea, wood, and linen lingers in the air, and the sun shines in through the window to cast the living area in a warm golden glow. But then, just barely, their ears pick up on the deep voice of Treech’s father upstairs.

Daisy sets down her basket on the couch, and June does the same with the bags she had been carrying, carefully slipping the sketchbook and the metal case to the bottom of their bargains. The sound of the bag rustling mixes in with that of Daisy taking her shoes off, and June follows suit immediately after.

A feeling of unease washes over her when they ascend the steep and creaky stairs, and she’s unsure whether to feel relieved or more concerned when the talking becomes louder. It’s still hard to tell what Treech’s father is saying, but the noise comes out of Treech’s room. The door is closed, which is usually never the case during the day.

June’s heart races, millions of thoughts of what could have gone wrong at the lumber yard immediately swarming her mind. She wipes her damp palms on her dress, and the sound of Daisy’s gentle knocking almost makes her wince.

“Come in,” Treech’s father can be heard saying, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. Even with the door separating them, he sounds a lot less happy than he did just a few hours ago.

She watches as Daisy takes a deep breath to gather herself and then opens the door carefully, hesitating to peer inside. June awkwardly hovers behind her and plays with her fingers.

She doesn’t like what happens next. It takes the woman a moment to process what she sees, but when she eventually speaks up, the way her voice trembles tells her everything she needs to know.

“Sweetie, what happened?” Daisy asks and immediately steps inside.

June follows her without so much as a second thought, but her heart almost gets crushed in an instant when she spots Treech on the bed, the quilt pulled up almost all the way. Only his head pokes out, and his red eyes and puffy face are a dead giveaway that he has been crying. But that look in his eyes is one she knows. The pure absence in his expression frightens her.

His father looks calm, being the rock of the family she has gotten to know him as, but Treech’s jacket on the floor and shoes scattered clumsily across the floor say more than needs to be said.

Daisy frowns and takes a seat beside her husband, reaching over to touch her son’s face. He visibly flinches, and she pulls away, only to cup his cheek when his face contorts into an expression of pain.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Treech mumbles, his voice quiet and raspy from crying. He sounds exhausted and like a little boy who just got himself into a lot of trouble. So vulnerable and so small that it makes her heart bleed. “I couldn’t… I can’t…”

“You don’t need to apologize for a damn thing, sweetie,” she quickly insists, her fingers brushing over the dried tears on his cheeks. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

He shakes his head quietly, but looks at his father.

The man sighs. “I’m with your mother on this one, son. Just stay where you are; I’ll tell her later,” he says. He places a hand on his shoulder through the thick blanket and rubs it comfortingly. “Guess I better go find the first-aid kit. You two keep an eye on him.”