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He didn’t deign to reply, striding down the stairs and out to the grounds as though he hadn’t noticed her. In the distance she could see a bonfire glowing from the other side of the trees, where the fire pit was. Had he set Sutton’s beautiful wooden dresser on fire?
She trotted after him, grabbing pictures and papers as they fluttered out of his overfull grip, not sure if he’d let her keep the things she thought she was saving from him.
Sure enough, the fire pit now had a lovely wooden dresser over it, fire licking up the sides as though the lacquer was a delicacy. He threw his armfuls onto the smoldering pile. A bottle of perfume smashed on the rock surrounding the pit, and the flames burst with new energy.
“Why?” she asked, grabbing yet another picture that had escaped the blaze. When she looked at it in the firelight two little boys covered in mud were grinning at her. Severin and Church. Her heart clenched.
“You’re burning the pictures of your childhood?” she asked, aghast.
“You saved most of them, but that’s enough now,” he said, his voice rough. The fact that he’d said anything was a relief after the days upon days of strictly observed silence. He stalked past her, back toward the house. She followed him, stashing the pictures under her bed in her room while he was distracted with his mission. It felt strange standing in Sutton’s room, watching Severin go through her things. He wasn’t sorting. He was just dumping random items on the bed and gathering them to take outside.
She looked quickly around the room, but wasn’t sure what was important. No more pictures were visible, but there were other things – children’s art projects Sutton must have saved from Church’s mom’s collection, the apron Sutton wore when she cooked, a handmade quilt.
“She doesn’t have other family who might want some of this?”
“No. I’m not sending it to her packrat sister. Other than her, there’s just Church and me. He already took what he wanted. We’re not nostalgic about things like you are.”
“If you weren’t, you’d be donating this stuff, not burning it.”
He bared his teeth at her. “I don’t want strangers touching her things.”
Her heart melted. For all of his rough ways, he had a tender heart, even if his actions were odd. Maybe he just didn’t know what to do with his feelings.
“Do you want me to help?”
“No. I need to do this myself.”
She nodded and followed him out again.
The dresser had caught fire well now, and for a moment he stood watching the blaze, his arms still full of Sutton’s possessions. He nodded to himself then flung his armload onto the blaze. A picture caught on the breeze and skated to the ground. Minnow crouched and picked it up. A chubby, grinning baby with pale blue eyes looked back at her from the photo. A baby. A picture from before he’d been sent here. She tucked it into her jacket pocket.
“No.” Severin’s voice was stern.
“But it’s a baby picture of you.”
“Yes. It’s the only one that I know of.” He held his hand out for it.
“No.” She put her hand protectively over her pocket.
“It’s not yours.”
“I want to keep it.” She took a step back. He took a step forward.
“That’s nice. Give it to me.”
“No,” she objected. “You were so adorable. Please, can I keep it?”
Growling, he lunged for her. Responding to instinct, she spun and ran from him, feeling as if they were reliving the last time they’d been at the fire pit.
“Get back here, you little shit.”
Little shit? If she had any breath to spare, she would have laughed. Affectionate name-calling was a good sign.
She ran, not knowing where she was going, but glad to distract him from the grief that had kept him dour and silent for so long.
He was swearing under his breath.
“You’re going to be so fucking sorry when I catch you.”
