Addie wiped the thoughts from her mind.Unchristian,Sophia would say.
She paused again, caught on that new thought. Preacher and Sophia. She hadn’t even seen them after the resurrection. They’d been there, lost in the crowd. Were they regretting their hasty judgment? Looking for her to apologize?
Stop thinking. Start moving. Or you’ll lose your chance.
She stepped into the room, gaze fixed on that feather, to retrieve it for Charlie. She picked it up and as she rose, she caught sight of a figure and stifled a yelp as she wheeled. It was Rene. He sat in front of one of the other coffins, with his back to her. His head was bowed. Asleep.
Addie exhaled in relief. She ought to be more careful. She’d been checking the room for him when she’d gotten distracted by the feather. She tucked it under her jacket now and silently tiptoed to the door joining the two rooms. He never stirred.
The adjoining door was closed tight. Addie turned the handle as carefully as she could and then eased it open. Through the crack she could see Charlie. He sat in a chair, leaning back, his eyes closed, looking like…
Well, looking like Charlie. Exactly like the Charlie she knew, his color coming back, the swelling fading. His dark hair hung in a cowlick over one eye, and Addie smiled, expecting him to reach up and push it impatiently aside, as he always did. He seemed too tired for that, though, and just sat there, slouched in the chair.
Eleazar was across the room, rummaging in his pack. He muttered to himself as he did, doubling the noise.
“Charlie?” Addie whispered.
No response.
A little louder. “Charlie?”
His eyelids flickered. Then they opened, and she was looking straight into those eyes she knew so well, gray-blue, like the sky on a windy day. She looked into them and saw…
Nothing. Not a flicker of recognition.
Because he can barely see me through this crack in the door.
She glanced at Eleazar. He was still retrieving things from his pack, turned away enough not to see her. She inched the door open until her face fit in the gap. Then she grinned at Charlieand, in her mind, she saw him grin back, as he always had, ever since the first time they met, when her ma brought her to town for supplies. Charlie had been in his father’s shop room, and he’d snuck a licorice whip from the jar for her. That’s who Addie saw in her mind—that boy, that grin—and it took a moment before she realized she wasn’t seeing it in front of her.
Charlie wasn’t even smiling. He looked right at her and that expression in his eyes never changed.
He doesn’t know me.
Because he’s tired. He’s confused.
She lifted the eagle feather and waggled it. He frowned.
Addie glanced at Eleazar. He was reading a book, muttering to himself as he turned the pages. Addie opened the door a little more and slipped through. Charlie sat barely three paces away. She crossed the gap and held out the feather. He only stared at her. She laid it on his blanket-draped lap.
“Here,” Eleazar said. “I’ve found that—” He looked up and saw her. “Who are you?”
“I-I’m Addie. Adeline. I came to see?—”
“He’s not ready to see anyone. Begone, girl.”
She backed up to the doorway. Charlie didn’t look down at the feather, as if trying to remember where it came from. He didn’t look at her either. He closed his eyes as if she’d already left.
“Charlie?”
His eyelids flickered open, and he glanced over with annoyance.
“He needs his rest, child,” Eleazar said, striding toward her. “He’s not himself yet. You need to leave.”
She retreated through the door into the rear.
“No!” Eleazar said, raising his voice. “Not that way.”
But she was already through, already racing across the room. As she reached the kitchen door, she heard Charlie’s voice,and she thought he was calling her back, telling Eleazar he remembered her now. She turned, and as she did, she saw the assistant, Rene, saw his face now as he sat there, head bowed. Saw the bruises around his neck. Saw his eyes. Open. Bulging. Dead.
