Lovely Wild by Megan Hart

through the closed door, he heard the murmur of his wife talking to someone. Probably Ethan. Ryan closed his eyes and imagined what it had been like all those years ago, when Mari had been in this house, not speaking at all.
    What had it been like for her?
    He was going to find out. For a moment, listening to the lilt of her voice, the soft, low chuckle he always admired, Ryan thought about packing them all up and taking them back home. Abandoning this project before it had begun. Before it could change things, he thought, opening his eyes and watching his wife’s shadow move under the crack at the bottom of the door.
    But things had already changed, hadn’t they? And they would keep changing, because that was the way the world worked, and if he didn’t change with them, he was going to let his family down.
    Ryan looked around the room at the stacks of file boxes, each neatly labeled in his dad’s hand.
Files. Recordings. Research Materials. Video.
In one corner, an ancient and gigantic television sat on a spindly legged table that didn’t seem strong enough to hold it. Also, a VCR and DVD player, along with a tangle of cords and cables. That’s where he’d start, but for the moment Ryan just sipped his coffee and looked around at the mess that was going to make his future.
    He wasn’t going to let anyone down.

SIXTEEN
    NOT EVERYTHING IN this kitchen is new. The cupboards under the counter are still lined with paper covered in orange-and-green flowers. They’re faded and dirty, in some places scraped by the pressure of pots and pans. The house included kitchenware. Mari’s not sure what sorts of meals she’ll prepare in these unfamiliar pots and pans and serve on strange dishes, but she’s sure they’ll be better than half-warmed franks ’n’ beans or boxed macaroni and cheese made with water, not milk and butter. Much, much better than dog biscuits. But not, she thinks with half a smile, better than a chocolate snack cake.
    She bought a box this morning and wants to find a place to hide it...just in case. Not up high where she’ll have to stretch for it. Someplace low. Tucked away. A place where nobody would think to look for it.
    Not that any of them would. She bought plenty of snacks. Fruit and crackers and cheese sticks for Kendra, gummy dinosaurs for Ethan and a package of Snickers bars for Ryan to keep in the freezer. She didn’t even really buy the snack cakes for her to eat.
    Just to have.
    Bending, she pushes aside some cookware to shove the box back into the shadows of the cupboard. Her fingers brush against something; she recoils by instinct, but it’s nothing nasty like a spider or even a dead mouse or rat—she’s seen plenty of them in her time. Mari pulls out a crinkling package. Yellow cake inside. Her mouth squirts saliva at the memory of the taste of spongy cake and thick, sweet cream made without a hint of anything dairy.
    She rocks on her heels, the package in her hands. It’s been in that cupboard for a long, long time, undisturbed. No sign of mold or rot, though the cake itself has shrunk. Dehydrated. If she opened the plastic, maybe it would crumble into dust right there. She bets eating it would make her vomit...but it would still be sweet.
    The normal thing to do would be to toss this remnant in the garbage and forget she ever saw it just as she’d forgotten hiding it there in the first place. It’s no good to her now. She doesn’t have to eat it and couldn’t if she wanted to.
    “Here. Eat this. It’s good. It’s called a treat.” He pressed it into her hand.
    Mari sniffed it. Took a lick. Then a bite. Then shoved it into her mouth, three bites, it was gone. It was good. She made a pattern in the air with her fingers.
    More?
    “One’s enough.” His hand stroked the tangles of her hair. “More will make you sick. Where’s the comb?”
    Her hair was soft and smooth when he finished, and Mari couldn’t stop touching it. With clean, soft hair, she