At the mention of the night’s weather, Henrik glanced toward the door, a line forming between his brows. “Should we fetch Arden? She’s been gone for a while now.”
I startled, jerking where I sat at the mention of my name.
“Yes,” Meya agreed. “I don’t like the thought of her out there this long in the cold, and she needs dinner. She’s just skin and bones.” She sent my father a significant look. “She is still a growing girl. She works too hard. You need to make sure she eats.”
My mouth moved, searching for words. Why were they pretending I wasn’t in the room? I pressed a hand to my chest. “I’m right here!”
“Don’t fret.” Da cleared his throat in that rattling way of his. “She is sturdier than she looks. That girl is built for the cold. Her thick skin is safe from this kind of weather.”
Meya shook her head, staring into her bowl. “She’s more fragile than you think.”
“I am here!” I knotted my hands into fists on top of the table, giving them a shake that rattled the crockery. “I am right here!” No one reacted. Frustration burned through me at their continued rebuffs. “This silent treatment is ridiculous. Very immature. I expect this from Jens, but not the rest of you.”
Jens loudly slurped his stew, unaffected at the mention of his name. He didn’t even look in my direction.
Da stood and returned to the stove to ladle himself another bowl as though I wasn’t even in the room.
Meya placed a hand on her husband’s arm and gave it an encouraging pat, nodding toward the door. “Maybe you should go fetch her home.”
“Iamhome.” I held my arms out wide at my sides, heat crawling up my face, incredulous that they would continue to ignore me this way.
Henrik nodded. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he pushed up from the table and moved to the door where he began dressing himself for the outdoors, lifting his wool cloak from the hook, followed by his fur cowl and gloves. He shoved his feet into his heavy fur-lined boots.
I shook my head. They were taking this too far.
I jumped from the table and stood in front of the door, barring Henrik from leaving.
“Just stop it!” I cried, slicing a hand through the air, unable to understand why they were punishing me this way. I was the injured party here. “Stop it! I’m not invisible, so stop treating me like I am. Talk to me!”
They had never been this cruel before. Well, Jens had his moments, but Henrik, Meya, and Da never behaved this way. It was completely uncharacteristic.
I stood my ground, hands on my hips, glaring at Henrik. He had been my ally in all things and his rejection stung. What had gotten into him? Why was he doing this to me?
Henrik straightened.
I squared my stance before him, barring his path, willing him to look at me. He couldn’t ignore me forever.
And yet he did—he was.
A bewildered panic started a slow flutter in my stomach.
This couldn’t go on. He would have to confront me. I was directly in his path. I simply wouldn’t get out of his way.
Still, without looking at me, he reached for the door latch, stepping forward, straight into me.
I braced for the collision.
It never came.
It was incomprehensible.
There was no impact. His body did not encounter mine, and yet suddenly he was at the door, opening it.
He didn’t passthroughme. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t an obstacle in his way. It was as though I wasn’t there at all.
One moment he was before me and the next I was standing to the side as though some invisible force had plucked me off my feet and moved me out of the way. Gawking, I watched him step over the threshold and out into the bitter night to fetch me home.
I shook my head in bewilderment. My lips worked, unable to form words, unable to make sense of what just happened.
