HER
Three years prior
I don't know how much time has passed when Adah finds me.
Only when she sees me, fear and concern are apparent on her face, she mouths words, but no sound reaches my ears.
I only cry.
Present day
As I tell my story, silent tears streak down Amber's face. She stares, eyes hard, at nothing.
We sit in silence when I finish.
I rush through how Adah found me a ship I could leave on, my seamstress job, and my fake name and husband. I wasn't going to tell her about Adah's promise, about what Grace's death did to me.
But I do.
And my circle of honesty grows by one.
"That's why you were so sad when you came here." She says at long last. It's not really a question, but I nod anyway. "You were already running from him."
"Yes."
Her face buckles, more tears leaking out. Anger and despair war in her expression.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
The question is weak, a last-ditch attempt at putting hard situations into convenient boxes.
"I was afraid. I had lost everything."
She looks up at me, confused. I hesitantly elaborate. This is a part of my history I try to forget more than any other.
"There was… a falling out. The family discovered his preference for me and sent me away."
It's all true, and yet reduced so much.
She only nods, as if understanding that there are even worse parts to the story than I just told her.
Silence stretches between us.
After all, what can you say to that?
"You came back here, even though he could find you."
Something seems to dawn in her face.
I only nod.
"You came back for me."
My bottom lip wobbles, and I hang my head.
"I couldn't…" I have to force the words out. "I couldn't hear about another death and do nothing."
We're both crying. Eyes red and watery. Noses running.
"Are you crazy? It's not safe for you! How could you—"
She can't get the words out. Sobs cut off her protests and I move to sit with her.
Our arms find each other and we just sit there.
Saying everything and nothing.
—
The nurses at the hospital finally kicked me out after hours of talking. The swelling of my face has reduced and I look less like I spent the last few hours crying. But only a little.
I am both heavier and lighter than I've been in a long time.
Emotionally raw, and yet, free.
Meandering steps bring me back to the servants' courtyard, and distant voices stop me.
From where I stand, I can see them from around the corner, but they can't see me.
I would dismiss it as two servants talking, if the moonlight didn't glint of jewelry more expensive than any servants' wages.
Lady Anna.
The strange scene pulls me up short.
Sara seems to be brushing a stray leaf or fluff off Lady Anna. I can't see her face, but her hair is immediately recognizable. Lady Anna smiles and laughs at something, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her delicate ear.
My observation is cut off by a presence behind me.
I whip around, fear closing my throat. Only to see Aleksi with his hands up in surrender, shock on his face.
"Christ Aleksi, don't sneak up on a girl like that!"
I press a hand to my wildly beating heart and the bastard only laughs. Glaring, I go to move away from him, when his face suddenly drops. I look down at myself, trying to find the source of his concern, but all I see is the dirt on my dress.
Alright, I've looked better, but nothing about me should be enough to create that stricken look on his face.
"Aleksi?"
HIM
Everyone was so distracted by the baby and Amber I don't think anyone noticed her disappear.
If I'm being honest, I didn't notice at first.
But I should've known.
She always runs when things become too much.
There was a part of me that didn't think she'd come back. That she'd disappear like last time.
So I waited.
And waited.
I was about to give up, to accept defeat, when I saw her peaking around the corner of the shed.
Maybe I teased her for being scared because I was hurt. Maybe I was going to let her walk away angry. But not once I saw her hands.
Her fingers are caked with dirt and scraped up like she fell.
Dried blood mixes with the mud on her and suddenly all I can see is red, angry wounds from the farm that people didn't clean properly.
The fevers that set in.
Amputated limbs. Lifeless eyes.
And I can't take it.
"Where the hell have you been?"
She blinks in surprise, confusion all over her face.
"What were you thinking, wandering around in the dark? What if I had been someone else?" My breath comes out ragged, my voice hoarse and sharp.
Her face falls, torn between apprehension and frustration.
"Aleksi—"
"And when were you going to treat those wounds?" I hiss at her. "Or do you not value having your hands?"
It seems she too has reached her limit.
Her mouth is a hard line as she grabs me.
I'm so angry I don't even process where she's taking me until we're at the kitchen sink and she sticks her hands under the running water. I watch, glaring, as she scrubs them violently, probably doing more harm than good.
When she pulls them out, they're red and raw, and little cuts leak blood.
"Happy?" She seethes at me, holding her hands in front of my face like she's proud of them.
"Not in the slightest," I growl back.
I'm afraid if I leave her here by herself she'll manage to slip away again, so I do the only thing I can think of. I drag her with me.
She stomps angrily behind me, hurling insults at me while I gather supplies.
"What are you even—"
I drag her into the servants' hall and put her in front of a chair.
"Sit."
Wrong thing to say.
I watch the old fire burn to life in her eyes as her lips pull back from her teeth.
"Do not tell me what to do."
"Sit down, you stubborn woman." My accent, which has lightened over the years, comes back in full force now.
Both of us pant, staring the other down, waiting to see who will yield first.
Knowing this woman, it will probably be me.