Greta had to lock her knees to keep standing.
She watched as Jonah dismounted first, keeping one hand on the reins, his movements deliberately slow. He reached up with his free hand, palm open, and waited. Alice stared at it for a long moment before placing her hand in his. When her feet touched the ground, her legs buckled immediately.
Jonah caught her, his arms supporting her weight without comment. Alice leaned into him, her body trembling visibly even from where Greta stood. The nightgown hung off her frame, making her look even smaller than she was.
Greta’s throat tightened. Her sister had always been petite, but now she looked fragile enough to break. The Alice in Greta’s memory had been vibrant, laughing, with eyes that sparkled with mischief. This woman seemed folded in on herself, her shoulders hunched, her gaze fixed on the ground.
“Easy now,” Jonah said, his voice carrying across the yard. “We’ll get you inside.”
Alice shook her head, a small movement that made her wince. She pointed toward Sunny, her fingers trembling.
“You want to stay with her?” Jonah asked.
Alice nodded.
“That’s fine. We can stay right here.”
Greta’s fingernails dug into her palms. Every instinct screamed at her to rush forward, to wrap her sister in her arms, to say all the words she’d been holding for half her life. But she’d spent enough time with traumatized animals to recognizethe look in Alice’s eyes—that skittish, cornered expression that meant any sudden movement would send her bolting.
Bear’s hand settled on her lower back. “Take your time,” he murmured. “She’s not going anywhere.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She took a careful step down from the porch, then another. Alice didn’t look up from stroking Sunny’s neck, but her body tensed, shoulders drawing tighter.
“Alice,” Greta said softly.
Her sister’s head snapped up. Those eyes—the same pale green Greta saw in the mirror every day—widened, filling with a mixture of shock and terror. She took a stumbling step backward, colliding with Sunny’s flank. The mare shifted her weight but didn’t move away.
“Hey,” Jonah said, his voice gentle. “It’s okay. This is your sister. Greta. Remember?”
Alice stared at Greta, her breath coming in short, audible gasps. Recognition flickered across her face, followed immediately by something that looked like disbelief.
Greta stopped moving, keeping a careful distance between them. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, her voice catching on the words. “I just... I’ve missed you so much.”
Alice’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her hand moved to her throat, fingers pressing against the skin as if checking that it was still there.
“You can’t speak?”
Alice shook her head, a single tear tracking down her dirt-streaked cheek.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. You know I talk enough for the both of us.”
Something close to a smile touched Alice’s lips.
Greta took another cautious step forward, then another, until only ten feet separated them. “I’ve been looking for you every day since you disappeared. I never stopped.”
Alice’s shoulders trembled. She looked from Greta to Jonah, then back again, as if trying to reconcile what she was seeing with what she’d believed for fifteen years.
“Can I come closer?” Greta asked.
Alice gripped Sunny’s mane like it was the only thing tethering her to this reality. For a long moment, she didn’t move, didn’t respond. Then, so slowly Greta almost missed it, she nodded.
Greta closed the distance between them, stopping when only an arm’s length remained. Up close, the damage was even more apparent—the gauntness of her sister’s face, the dark circles under her eyes, the way her collarbones protruded above the neckline of the nightgown.
And those ashy-white streaks in her hair.
Tears flooded Greta’s eyes as she held out her hand. “I’m so sorry, Alice. So, so sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”
Alice hesitated, then extended her right hand and set it in Greta’s. Her skin was cold, her fingers trembling.
