“Did you…steal it, Serena?”
The accusation hit her like a punch in the gut.She dropped the bowl she was washing into the hot soapy water and spun to face him.
“No!I would never do such a thing.”
“Then where did you get it?”His expression was tight, on edge.
Maris gaped, her gaze swinging between the two of them.
Serena pressed her lips together into a tight line.“I-I…” She halted, sucked in a breath, and then lied.“I sold a stack of animal pelts to Mr.Fullhide.”
Air whooshed out of Papa as he dropped his arms, relieved.But then, his expression creased with question.“And the elixir?”
She swallowed hard, her mouth turning to ash.“Papa, you know I have some experience with herbs.I made it myself.”
He stared at her a long, questioning moment as he contemplated this.
“But you left that night,” Maris piped up.“You were gone for hours when you came back with the elixir.”
Stars above.Why couldn’t Maris let it go?
“I think you’re mistaken,” Serena said, her voice tight.
“No, I’m not.I remember you—”
“That’s enough, Maris,” she snapped.
“But—”
“Maris,” Papa said, his voice soft.“It’s all right, little dove.Serena has her secrets.Let her keep them.”
But he gave her a warning glance.That she was not to keep her secrets fromhim.
Maris stuck out her lower lip in a spectacular pout as she stomped away to their room and slammed the door.Serena sighed and turned back to the sink to resume washing.
“I don’t know why you lied, Serena, but I hope it’s for a good reason.”
She gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white.One more lie, layered on top of the last.It wouldn’t hold forever.And when it shattered, so would she.
“Don’t ask me to explain, Papa.I cannot,” she said sharply.
His brow furrowed.“I’ll accept that.For now.”
He left the room.Alone again, she faced the suds and the silence—and the weight of every secret she wasn’t strong enough to speak aloud.
Later that day after their evening meal, they were enjoying amicable silence by the crackling fire.Papa with his book.Maris with her needlework.Serena trying to focus on her own sewing to repair a hole in her cloak.But her thoughts drifted back to the stranger and the way he rebuffed her.Why did it bother her so?
Hope is dangerous, Serena Windriver.
Perhaps he’d given up hope long ago he would be freed from his duties at the Well of Wishes.Why did she care so much?
Was it because of the way he looked at her when she arrived that last time with the offer to release him?
Many have tried.None have succeeded.
And why was she so determined to succeed?
“Serena, you all right?”Papa asked.
