Archer took the packed up trash and placed it at the doorstep.
His gaze swept over.
Seventeen quickly turned aside to hide, her hand hanging by her side tightly clenched, the back of her hand and knuckles covered in cuts.
Archer only glanced at the weather before going back inside.
There was going to be another blizzard tonight.
Inside the house.
Hannah moved her personal small chair to sit in front of the fireplace.
She was still wearing a lot of clothes.
Hat, scarf, gloves — not a single item was missing.
Her two hands were tucked together as she stared blankly at the fire.
When Archer entered, he brought in a bit of cold air.
The cold air made the flames in the fireplace jump as if they were eager to escape at the chance.
Hannah picked up a piece of wood and threw it in.
The fire grew and the flames calmed down.
The orange glow of the fire kept flickering in the fireplace and also in Hannah's eyes.
