The word settled between us, cold and thick.
Daniel led us straight to the edge of the woods, then along the gravel road to the house. My toes went numb, then tingled painfully when we got to the cabin and Daniel hustled us all inside.
The interior was toasty warm thanks to the fire we’d left crackling in the old stone hearth. Daniel got to work filling the kettle. Beth guided Alice to the couch and wrapped her in a faded quilt, then sat beside her, hands at the ready.
Alice was still shaking, her hands twitching in the fold of the blanket. I got her a glass of water, found a sleeve of saltines in the pantry, and set them on the coffee table. "Eat," I said. "You’ll feel better."
Alice took a cracker, nibbled it, then stared at her hands.
The kettle shrieked, and Daniel poured hot water into a chipped mug, then dropped a bag of tea in the water. He brought it to Alice, and she wrapped her fingers around it, sipping slow, letting the warmth back into her bones.
Beth took out her phone and tried to get a signal. Nothing. "I’ll try again in a bit," she said, but she didn’t move away from Alice.
We sat like that for a long time, the fire popping, the wind outside rattling the windows. Henry staying close to Alice, his hand draped over her shoulder. I paced the small kitchen, made more tea, and cleaned the few dishes I could find.
Eventually, Alice started nodding off. Beth whispered a little spell, just a couplet under her breath, and Alice’s breathing steadied. She went from tense and alert to limp in seconds. Henry closed his eyes as she sagged against him.
Daniel took the opportunity to step outside. I joined him, even though the cold was miserable. "You think the grandmother is out there?" I asked.
He stared at the woods, jaw clenched. "I wish I knew.”
We stood in silence, watching the moon rise above the pines. I wanted to ask what he really thought, but I already knew. He’d seen too much not to expect the worst.
Inside, the cabin glowed. My brother and his girl, safe for now.
EIGHTEEN
Emma
Morning in the cabin arrived in slow motion, the way hangovers or grief do. A creeping, painful thing that made me wish for more sleep and fewer regrets.
The first thing I noticed was the smell of bacon. I uncurled myself from the chair where I’d managed to get a few hours' sleep and tried to work out the horrible kink in my neck.
I stepped into the kitchen to find that Henry was sitting next to Alice on the bench by the kitchen table, so close they could’ve shared a shirt. He watched her like she might vanish if he blinked. Beth nursed a mug of coffee, dark circles under her eyes. Daniel had his back to the room, flipping pancakes.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down. The wood of the bench pressed up against my thighs, a solid reminder that I hadn’t dreamed any of this. My knees ached from last night’s death march, and my shoulder protested when I reached for butter. Next to me, Alice wrapped both hands around her mug and stared into it like it might show her the meaning of life. Her hands shook so much I thought she’d shatter the ceramic. Everynow and then, Henry squeezed her arm or put a hand on her shoulder like he was trying to anchor her to earth.
Nobody talked.
Not a real conversation, anyway. Beth asked Daniel for sugar, and he handed it over without looking up. I loaded my plate with carbs and made a half-hearted attempt to get food in my mouth without tasting anything. When I tried to cut my pancake, the knife screeched against the plate like a horror movie sound effect, and everyone at the table flinched.
Yikes. Could breakfast be any more awkward?
Alice tried to get a bite down, but her fork trembled so badly she put it down. Then, Henry grabbed her fork and began to slowly feed her. Every so often, Alice’s eyes would dart to the window, then back to the plate, as if she expected someone, or something, to appear out of the woods and smash through the glass.
Daniel shoveled pancakes the way a pro would, but his jaw was clenched, and he kept glancing at the door. Maybe he thought whatever had spooked Alice would come knocking for breakfast. I was starting to think it might.
I finished my coffee, wiped my lips, and waited for someone else to break the silence.
Nobody did.
Finally, Alice shook her head, and Henry set down the fork. Then, she grabbed her cup and took a big drink before setting her mug down with a thunk. The coffee nearly sloshed over the side.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
Henry leaned in, his arm pressed to hers, eyes big and worried. Even Beth paused mid-bite, pushing her plate aside.
Alice took a shaky breath. “I need to tell you what happened.”
