Zoe squinted into space as she awoke from her dream. Discarded. All she could remember was the word "discarded."
The girl got out from under her covers and made her way to the closet. Was there anything here that was discarded? Yes. A scarf. In a pale yellow and brown plaid pattern, this scarf had been a birthday present from some cousin Zoe barely even knew. She'd worn it once, and then banished it to the farthest corner of her wardrobe. But that morning it called to her. Not to be worn, but to be used. To be discarded once again.
She folded up the scarf and put it with her bookbag as she got herself ready for school. And that morning at breakfast, when Jon started egging her on, instead of responding she just looked at him.
"You seem a little cold, Jon," she told him in a neutral tone. "Here, you should wear this scarf."
And she left the item on the table by her brother's place setting as she casually made her way out of the kitchen and out the front door, never once even looking back.
