Horace must have seen something in my features, for he swiftly side-stepped me and put himself between my body and Callum’s. I couldn’t turn around to watch, couldn’t make my limbs move, couldn’t hear past the ringing in my ears. It was like I was frozen in place, burrowing in on myself as my thoughts tunneled down the pit I worked so hard to keep covered. The pit I never let myself remember.
I was five years old, playing with my favorite stuffed doll in our front yard. Papa had told me to come back inside as soon as the sun started to go down, but I still had a few minutes left. I twirled around with her small hand in mine, the wind rustling through the skirt of my dress.
Suddenly, a blue butterfly appeared on my arm. I giggled as its wings tickled my skin, then gasped in delight. It started to change color, going from blue to pink to yellow every time I blinked.
Three more just like it flew from beneath my hair, and, gaping at them in wonder, I shook my head to see if more would come out.
They were so pretty. Papa would love to see these. I reached out a hand to try and catch one, but they flew away too fast. Letting out a giggle, I chased them around the yard, clapping as they shifted from one bright color to the next.
The butterflies led me to the big tree a little ways from the house. I stopped when they flew straight toward two strange men.The biggest one held his finger out and let the pretty butterflies rest on top before they all disappeared in the blink of an eye.
He looked at me and smiled.
I clutched my dolly to my chest, turning my head back to the house. Papa was going to be mad at me. I ran too far away.
“Hi there, Rose,” the one who’d had the butterflies said. “Is your father home? We’re good friends of his, and we wanted to come by to surprise him.”
I smiled shyly and swayed on my feet. He knew my name—Papa probably told him, if they were friends. Twisting a strand of hair around my finger, I said, “He’s home. I’m s’posed to get back before the sun goes down, so I have to hurry!”
“Well then, let’s go!” the other man said cheerfully, his grin wide and playful. “We wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
I nodded enthusiastically and turned on my heel, dashing back to the house. I hoped Papa wouldn’t be too mad that I was late.
When I burst through the front door, my papa looked up at me from his chair by the fire.
“Papa! Some friends of yours came by to see you!” I said, setting my dolly on the table in the entry.
He scrunched his forehead. “Rose, sweetheart, what are you talking?—”
The door behind me swung open, and Papa jumped to his feet. A big hand grabbed me by the waist and covered my mouth before I could scream.
Papa’s face was like an angry cloud when he shouted my name. I kicked against the man holding me as my chest suddenly felt too tight, like someone was squeezing the breath out of me. In a second, it was over, and I felt a huge blast of magic fill the room, knocking the scary men to their feet. I fell to the ground and Papa scooped me up. He wiped the tears from my cheeks as I cried against him.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he said, hurrying through the house with me clinging to his neck. We passed the kitchen and my bedroom, then turned toward Papa’s office. “Until I come get you, I want you to stay hidden in here. Alright, sweetheart?”
He set me down on my feet, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “I’ll come get you in a few minutes, I promise. Can you be a big girl for me? Be my brave Rose?”
I sniffled and nodded, and he swiped another tear away. Down the hall, the sound of scuffling and footsteps grew closer. The bad men were coming.
When my father stood, I wrapped my arms around his leg, unable to stop the tears dripping off my nose. “Papa, no! Don’t go!” I cried. I wanted to be brave like he said, but I was so scared. Why were those people here? Were they going to hurt us?
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.” He unwound my hands from his leg and pulled me into a tight hug, kissing my forehead. “I love you, Rose. Stay here.”
Before I could argue, he strode out the door and shut it behind him. I felt that same pressure and burst of magic, like what happened when he did a spell.
I hurried backward and ran beneath Papa’s desk, huddling close to the wall. Every shout, every clatter, every thump made me squeeze my eyes tighter. The men shouted and something banged against the door, and I heard it creak open.
Peeking out from under the desk, I squinted through puffy eyes to see if anyone was there, but the loud noises had stopped. I rubbed at my face and slowly crawled out.
“Papa?” I whispered once I reached the door. When nobody answered, I slipped through the small opening, then looked down the hallway.
There were black marks like smoke all along the floor. The air smelled like it did when Papa would light a fire in the backyard, and I’d fall asleep listening to him and Aunt Ana and Uncle Ragnar talking. Some of the pictures that used to hang on the walls were smashed on the ground.
My hands shook as I walked closer to the living room. Something smelled funny. Like copper that stung my nose. Where was Papa? He said it would only be a few minutes.
Right as I made it to the corner, I heard a choking sound.
My feet stopped.
