I push it open as quietly as I can.
Inside is one room, maybe twelve by twelve feet.
Fireplace with a weak fire burning—she must have found old matches somewhere, must have scavenged half-rotted wood from the forest floor.
A broken chair in pieces near the fire.
A rotting table collapsed in one corner.
And Eden.
Huddled in the corner farthest from the door.
Arms wrapped around herself, knees pulled to her chest, shivering violently.
Her face is pale, almost gray.
Lips tinged blue.
Eyes huge and dark and absolutely terrified when she sees me standing in the doorway.
"No," she whispers.
Just that. One word.
No.
Like she can refuse me.
Like she has any power here.
Like she has any choice at all now.
I step inside and close the door behind me as much as I can with the broken hinge.
"Did you really think you could run from me?" My voice is calm. Cold. Controlled despite the rage and fear and relief all warring inside my chest.
She presses harder against the wall like she's trying to disappear into it. "Stay away from me."
"Eden." I take another step forward. She flinches. "You've been gone for hours. It's thirty-four degrees and dropping. You're hypothermic. You're in danger. This ends now."
"I won't go back."
"Yes, you will."
"You can't make me."
I almost laugh. The sound that comes out is harsh, bitter. "Can't I?"
I cross the small space in three strides and reach for her.
She scrambles away. Or tries to.
But she's weak from the cold.
I catch her easily, pull her against my chest even as she struggles.
She fights.
