Soon she'll see what it means. How they drop their eyes. How they step back.
And then she'll be careful around me.
My jaw tightens.
She's outside now. The indignant squawking of a chicken, Melori's voice climbing higher as she argues with it.
"Stop that. Stop—I said stop. We're leaving. You're coming. This isn't a negotiation."
The chicken screams at her.
"I don't care what you think. Get in the basket."
More screaming.
"Nugget. Nugget. I will leave you for the foxes."
The chicken apparently decides to cooperate.
Kestria is laughing. Holding her wounded side, tears streaming down her face. "She threatened the chicken with foxes—" She can't finish. "She actually—"
Melori comes back inside carrying a wicker basket with a pink-colored chicken missing half its tail feathers. The chicken is still loudly furious. She sets the basket down without looking at either of us, face flushed.
"Not a word."
"Wasn't going to say anything," Kestria wheezes.
"You're laughing."
"I'm crying. From pain. Completely unrelated."
I walk to the door. Push it open. Night air. Cold. Pine and coming rain.
Behind me, she moves through the cottage one last time. Quick. Her footsteps pause at the hearth, the worktable, near the window. Then moving on.
Then she's beside me. Bag over her shoulder, basket in hand. The chicken has settled into sullen silence.
"Ready."
Half-dead on her feet. Leaving everything behind and not crying about it.
My hands won't unclench.
I step out into the dark.
"Then let's go."
Chapter 5
I look back once.
The cottage is already half-swallowed by trees. Just a corner of the roof, a sliver of garden wall, Nugget's empty coop with the door hanging open. The herb rack I built three times. The first two collapsed. Learned about load-bearing the hard way. The garden fence—Kestria helped me fix it last spring, I wonder if she remembers. The worktable. That paste stain. Never did get it out.
That's going to hurt later.
When I have time.
Right now there's no time—Nugget's shifting inside the basket, clucking softly, her feathers still pink (going to be pink for weeks probably), and my stomach is growling, and I haven't slept since—doesn't matter.
