"That was—" she started.
"Yeah," I agreed, my voice rough.
"Very—"
"Yeah."
She laughed, the sound a little shaky, a little overwhelmed. "We should probably get Sarah inside. She'll freeze out here."
"Probably."
Neither of us moved for another long moment.
Eventually, practicality won. We carried Sarah into the cabin together, moving in silent coordination like we'd done this a hundred times before. I held Sarah while Emma pulled back the quilt on the small bed in Sarah's room, then laid her down carefully on the familiar sheets.
As I tucked the covers around her small body, Sarah's eyes fluttered open. "Uncle C?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. We're just putting you to bed."
"Are we home?"
"We're home."
Her gaze drifted past me to where Emma stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the soft light from the hallway. "Is Ms. Reed going to be here more now?"
The question was innocent, sleepy, and devastating.
I glanced at Emma. Her eyes were soft, shimmering. She gave me the smallest nod.
"I hope so," I said quietly.
Sarah's voice was fading, sleep pulling her back under. "I like it when she's here. It feels like... like a real family."
Her words floated in the dark room like stars.
"Night, Uncle C." A pause, almost an afterthought. "Night, Emma."
Not Ms. Reed. Emma.
We stood frozen in the doorway, barely breathing. The weight of what had just happened pressed against my chest.
"She called me Emma," Emma whispered once we'd eased out of the room. Her voice cracked on the last word. "Not Ms. Reed."
"Is that okay?"
"It's perfect." Tears slipped down her cheeks, catching the dim hallway light. "It's absolutely perfect."
I reached out and took her hand, threading my fingers through hers. "Come outside with me. There's one more thing I want to show you."
I led her around the cabin to my bee yard, where the hives sat in neat rows, dark shapes against the darker treeline. In the daylight, this place hummed with activity, thousands of wings,countless small lives in constant productive motion. Now it was silent, peaceful, reverent.
"They're sleeping?" Emma asked quietly.
"Clustered. Thousands of them packed together, vibrating their wing muscles to generate heat. They'll stay like that all winter, keeping each other alive."
"I remember, it sounds cozy."
"The center of the cluster stays around ninety degrees, even when it's twenty below outside. They rotate positions constantly, so no bee gets too cold on the outside."
