Azalea pretended to vomit, then muttered to herself, ‘If I have to hear about the baker’s son one more time, I swear …’
Baji and Bisma exchanged an amused glance.
‘Yes, let’s go eat,’ Baji said. As their eldest sister and leader, hers was the final say.
They gathered up the picnic baskets and made their way down the treehouse, comforting chatter filling the air. Azalea was going on about how she desperately needed new fabric to make a blouse or she would justdie; Luna was reciting a lovepoem she had recently read; Nori was hopping and twirling, as hyper as ever.
They walked through the Forest, and Baji pointed out different mushrooms and berries to Mei, who declared whether they were safe to eat or not—something they were all taught when they first entered the Forest. They stopped at a hill with a view of the Rushing River and sat in the shade of an elderberry tree on a picnic blanket that was the yellow of sweetcorn and sunflowers.
Then the girls eagerly set about unloading their breakfast: jars of glistening blueberry jam and orange marmalade, warm crumbly scones, savory egg and spinach pie, lots of toast and salted golden butter, bottles of cold milk and pots of strong black tea, and a vanilla cake with bright red strawberries and thick sugared cream.
‘This is amazing,’ Bisma said, heart swelling. She looked around at her sisters, feeling nostalgic for this moment already. After today, everything would change.
Her gaze snagged on Baji, whose eyes welled with tears.
Bisma opened her mouth to speak, but Baji gave her a bright smile, blinking her tears away. As painful as this was for Bisma, she knew it was worse for Baji.
‘Let’s eat!’ Baji declared. The girls did not need to be told twice.
They dug in, passing plates and cutlery and teacups and sugar, eating until their stomachs were full. Then they spent the day playing in the sun.
Around midday, they all gathered back onto the picnic blankets and huddled together to nap, cuddling close and warming one another with their bodies in the cool shade of the elderberry tree. Patches of sunlight shifted through the gaps of the leaves above them as they slept.
When they woke, they ate again, then raced to the Rushing River, splashing each other with cold water. They picked flowers and made bouquets; Bisma made each of her sisters gajre to adorn their wrists. They talked and bickered and teased and laughed.
It was a perfect day. Everyone was on their best behavior—even Azalea—and before Bisma knew it, the sun was setting, the sky shifting from bright cerulean blue to a dark purple.
The sight filled her with terror; she didn’t want the day to end. Bisma wished she could reach out into the sky and hold the sun in place, just for a while longer.Please, just a few hours more, she implored, but even the magic of the Enchanted Forest could not stop time.
Goodbye was inevitable.
‘It’s time,’ Baji said, her voice solemn and thick. They all grew silent. Quietly, they packed up their things and made their way back to the treehouse, walking slowly, prolonging the end.
They could only put it off for so long. Soon they were back at the treehouse.
It was time for goodbye.
‘I’m going to miss you girls so much,’ Baji said. No, not Baji anymore—just Eva. Now that Bisma was eighteen, it was time forherto become Baji.
‘Deeba, give me a hug,’ Eva said, crouching down. Deeba was too young to truly understand that this would be the last time she saw Eva. She waddled into Eva’s open arms, hugging her; Eva held her close, kissing her cheek.
Then she stood, holding her arms out for Nori.
‘You’ll be back, right?’ Nori asked, face scrunched with confusion. A streak of dirt marred one cheek; she rubbed at it, smearing it further.
‘No, sweetheart, remember?’ Eva said. Her eyes shone. ‘I have to go now, but Bisma will take care of all of you. She’ll be your new Baji, and she’s going to be wonderful.’
Baji was the title of the head of their family. Like Bisma, on Eva’s eighteenth birthday she had been bequeathed the title, and like Bisma, she had said goodbye to her own Baji, a girl named Silke that Bisma remembered well.
Silke would be twenty-three now, but Bisma had not seen her since she had left the Enchanted Forest.
‘Come, give me a hug,’ Eva said. She hugged Nori, then said goodbye to Mei, then Azalea, then Luna.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Bisma said. Eva nodded; she turned to the girls, as if to tell them to go up and get ready for bed, then stopped herself.
Eva looked at Bisma, who felt unsteady by the sudden responsibility.
‘Girls, wash up and change for bed,’ Bisma instructed them, her voice shaking. ‘I’ll be back. Luna, you’re in charge until then.’
