Page 69 of Feral Touch

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Like I said, his name is Ren. He's in a rock band. Have you heard of Feral Silence?

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No, I hadn't either.

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Yeah. I do remember that boy from music class.

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…I know. It was really sad. Um. Mom, can you keep a secret?

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It's the same Ren. It turns out we're living in the same city.

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I know. Mmm-hmm. Yeah.

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No, I guess no one else back home ever found out what happened to him.

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Really? I never thought—

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Oh. I guess it just seemed like his parents never looked that hard for him. He was eighteen when he left home. I thought they just didn't care all that much.

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Oh. Oh, wow. I never knew. I don't think he knows, either. Are you sure?

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Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him. I can't make any promises, though.

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Yes, I'm happy. Very happy. I'll give you a call later when dad's home, okay?

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I love you, too mom.

I hung up the phone, still digesting what my mother had told me.

“You have a good chat?” Ren asked, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of champagne. He took a seat next me and handed me the glass. “To celebrate.”

“We've been celebrating for a week.”

“Not just the song's release,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders and tucking my head under his chest. “I want to celebrate us.”

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