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Papa Rich nods. “Let’s get some sleep. We got a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Violet takes me by the hand. “I have an extra blanket from my bed for you, and I know we have some straw.” She then leans into me and whispers in my ear, “When they leave, we can take from Holly and Scarecrow’s bed, as they have extra blankets and pillows for him. I know Holly will share.”
I somehow get my feet to move, which oddly feels as if I’m floating. I’m not sure if I’m shocked by what just occurred, if I’m grieving over my new life, or if I’m … suicidal. The thought of the cliff outside still lingers in my mind.
The strong stench of onion will forever burn my nostrils, and the vows I made to Scarecrow will forever taint my tongue.
When Violet and I are behind my privacy curtain, she begins making my bed. “I know you don’t want to be here,” she says. “I don’t blame you.” She looks up at me and smiles. “But I’m happy you’re here. It will be nice to have some extra company around. It’s awfully lonely up here on the mountain.”
I try to smile politely back, but my face is frozen in misery. I wonder if I will ever smile again.
8
Ember
It’s so cold. Bone-shattering cold.
We don’t have enough firewood to get us through the night unless we use it sparingly, which sadly isn’t enough to keep the chapel warm. The three of us knew Papa Rich and Scarecrow didn’t leave us with enough food to survive the entire time they’ll be gone, so we spent the next two days foraging for food before the snowfall made it impossible to do so. Which then meant we didn’t gather and chop firewood like we should, since something had to give.
Luckily for us, Violet seemed to have good luck when she went into the forest alone. She’d come back with a basketful of mushrooms or berries. She went out this morning, insisting to go alone, and came home with two rabbits and told us she came across them in traps that must have been set by Scarecrow. Violet’s eyes sparkled with pride, but she never smiled.
None of us smiled.
Sadness is her permanent, as it is ours.
But no matter how sad Violet appears, a sweetness masters all else. Such a gentle soul. So kind, generous in everything she does, and I truly have fallen in love with her. Even in this short time, it’s impossible not to. I never had a sister, and now… I have two.
Holly—though kind—is very different in how she interacts with me. Strong, steadfast, and determined are her characteristics, but they all give me comfort. I know I can count on Holly and her leadership. She knows this mountain. She understands how it ticks, how it breathes. The mountaintop has a heartbeat, and her palm is the one over it.
She collects pine needles and rosehip for teas. She pulls moss and pine branches and carries them back to the chapel to fill in all the gaps in the wood that allows in the cool air. She has also placed containers outside to start collecting water when the storm comes. She’s preparing for the storm, and it’s obvious this isn’t her first time.
Because it’s so cold tonight, we all choose to make our beds around the fire rather than our respective corners with our privacy curtains pulled. I’ve reached a point of comfort with the women, and I figure we’ll spend the majority of the approaching winter together with the fire giving us warmth rather than concealing ourselves in coldness.
The fire crackles, and I hear the heavy breathing of Holly asleep beneath a thick quilt. Easy sleep—her reward for the hard work she does in a day. Sleep of my own begins to take over when I feel Violet’s body cuddle up behind me. Considering the chill in the room, I don’t mind the touch and the need for body heat.
“Is this okay?” she whispers, wrapping her arm securely around me.
I nod, not sure if it’s appropriate or not. But I’m cold, I’m on the ground in the middle of nowhere, and at this moment in time, I don’t care what is right or wrong. Her touch gives me comfort, and clearly mine gives her the same.
“I love you, Ember. Sweet dreams,” she says as she snuggles her face into my hair.
“Sweet dreams, Violet.”
We both deserve them.
Christopher
The pilot is lucky I don’t turn his ass in. Although he seems the type to keep his head down and just see what he wants to see—as long as there’s a paycheck in the end. I don’t like the man one bit, but when he got the call from my mother with the orders to fly me to the exact same spot he dropped Richard off at, he obliged. Did he offer me any other information when I grilled him? No. But at least I was in the general area. The man had to be scared shitless now that his idea of fast cash was blowing up in his face.
