Lessek's Key

SILVERTHORN, COLORADO

‘I think I’ll go tomorrow,’ Jennifer Sorenson says, unaware that, a world away, Malakasia’s flagship is shattering into black shards and sinking into Orindale Harbour.

‘No, stay the weekend,’ Bryan encourages. ‘They’re predicting fresh snow Thursday night. We’ll ski the powder for a couple of days, and you can drive back to the city on Saturday, or even Sunday if you don’t mind traffic going down the mountain.’

‘Please stay,’ Meg adds, ‘and if you don’t want to ski, we’ll go shopping. The antiques shops in town are terrific’

Jennifer forces a smile, appreciating everything they have done to help her cope with Hannah’s disappearance, but shopping for antiques and skiing in the Rocky Mountains remain low on her list of priorities. ‘Thank you both. I really mean it, but with all the antiques I’ve sold in the past few months, I don’t think I even want to look at another one for a very long time. And Bryan, I just don’t know that I can go up there without-’ Jennifer coughs, covering a sob.

She has been at her brother’s for the past eight days: reading, writing letters and sharing walks with Bryan and Meg, but she has not been skiing, not one run. She hasn’t even looked up at the mountain; raw emotion is just too near the surface. There has been no news of Hannah since the Idaho Springs police told her the search and rescue efforts underway on Decatur Peak would be suspended until spring. ‘The snow is too deep for an effective search, Mrs Sorenson. I’m sorry,’ the detective had said, coolly, professionally sympathetic. She had not moved as the numb realisation washed over her: Hannah was lost, presumed dead.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, her brother says, ‘I’m sorry, Jenny, I didn’t- But stay anyway. We’ll, I don’t know, cook gourmet food and drink too much expensive wine.’

‘No.’ It’s a genuine chuckle this time as she reflects on her brother’s sometimes curious endeavours in the kitchen. She wipes her eyes. ‘Look at me. I’m a mess. You don’t need me hanging around here.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Meg says. ‘It’ll be better here than at home. The store’s finally empty, so you’re spending too much time at the house. Just take a few more days to regroup.’

They don’t understand.

‘There’s no place,’ Jennifer begins falling apart again. ‘There’s no place to hide. There’s no safe place. I can’t get away from her. She’s everywhere. Don’t you see? I can’t stand it. One minute she was there on her bike. I made her put her helmet on as if she was a ten-year-old, and then she was gone. I can’t just sit around waiting until spring for some hiker to-’ Jennifer collapses to the floor; Bryan kneels to take her in his arms.

‘Just a few more days,’ he whispers. ‘I’ll go back with you on Sunday, and we can take care of a few things there.’

‘No!’ Jennifer shouts. ‘We won’t. I won’t clean out her room. I won’t do it. She is not… she’s not gone, Bryan.’

‘Jenny, please.’

‘No,’ she shakes her head too hard, causing her vision to tunnel. ‘You tell me how they got to the trailhead, Bryan. How did they get there? All three cars were at the house. Hannah’s climbing gear was at our house. She wore running shoes up there that night. She knew it had snowed.’

Standing, Jennifer breathes deeply in an effort to calm down; it doesn’t help. ‘I’m sorry, but you climbed with her, Bryan, she wouldn’t go up there in running shoes. She isn’t on that mountain. I won’t believe it, and I won’t clean out her room. I won’t cancel her insurance. I won’t take her fucking messages off the answering machine. I’m sorry, but there is nothing like this. This would have been easier if they had just told me she was-’ Jennifer wails, a cry that breaks her brother’s heart.

‘Please don’t apologise,’ says Meg. Uncertain what to do with her hands, she alternates between clutching at the crew neck of her sweater and rubbing her palms along the outer seams of her jeans. Feeling useless, she moves into the kitchen for some water.

Bryan takes his sister by the shoulders as the Prince Marek hoists her broken transom to the Falkan night and begins sinking into the harbour. He takes a breath, bracing himself just enough to say, ‘A few more days, okay?’

Defeated, Jennifer finally nods. ‘Okay.’

‘Great.’ He makes an attempt at levity. ‘What shall we cook? Grilled elephant balls?’

‘Sounds lovely,’ Jenny can’t stifle a giggle. ‘I’ll rent Casablanca, and we’ll make an evening of it.’ She sees the relief in his face; her heart lightens. Bryan will always be her little brother.

‘Make it Victor Victoria; I’m in the mood for a cross-dressing soprano,’ he grins at her.

‘I’m afraid Meg will have to help you there, Bryan.’

‘Nah, she’s an alto,’ he whispers, and together the siblings laugh, holding one another, waiting for the comforting predictability of everyday life, absent since Hannah’s disappearance, to return.