Am I leaving?
Will I leave with Christopher?
Is it as simple as that? Or is it as difficult as that?
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
“I don’t think he should be here,” Violet adds. “If Scarecrow finds out about this….”
“No one’s leaving right now,” Holly says as she points to the side window revealing the snow, which is coming down harder and harder by the second. “It’s a storm outside that is only going to get worse, and walking out that door will mean death.”
Christopher reaches for his backpack and pulls out a large black phone. He presses some buttons and frowns at the screen. He then points it above his head and continues to scowl. “I need to get someplace not within the trees to get a better signal.”
I instantly think of the cliff overlooking the canyon, but there’s no way we can make our way there in this storm safely. “I know where we can go, but not until the snow stops.”
He places the phone back in his bag and returns his attention to me. “Where exactly did Richard go?”
“Wyoming,” I answer, feeling an odd sense of betrayal toward Papa Rich for telling of his whereabouts. “They’re hoping they can find a small mining town like Hallelujah Junction that isn’t so much on the radar as any place in Nevada or California right now.”
“Scarecrow is going to be really angry when he finds out you’re here,” Violet says again, her voice cracking as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
I look at Violet and then Holly. I need a moment alone with Christopher without an audience. Luckily, Holly picks up on my need and discomfort.
She takes Violet by the hand and says, “Let’s go over here and work on the chimney more. The snow’s getting in and will snuff out our stew if we aren’t careful.”
I take this opportunity to take him to my corner of the chapel and pull the curtain to give us some visual privacy. I know that if Holly and Violet want to listen to our conversation, they can, but at least we have some seclusion. But no matter how much we whisper, the reality is that we are all in one room with no walls separating us.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I whisper, rubbing my arms to try to heat up my flesh that’s gone cold.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t?” He notices I’m cold and begins rubbing my arms for me, and though his hands are icicles themselves, they do offer a sense of warmth and comfort.
I don’t know what I expected. But did I think Christopher would be able to track me down? Did I ever think I’d see him again?
No. Never in a million years.
“When the snow stops, we’re getting out of here,” he says.
I shake my head. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is. I have a satellite phone and a pilot on standby.”
“Christopher… there’s something you need to know.” I want to throw up, and I sit down on my pallet of wool blankets, because if I don’t sit, I’m afraid I’ll collapse.
He sits down beside me, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and pulls me closer to his body. “We have shit to work out. But we can handle everything once we’re in a safe place.”
“When I left with Papa Rich and Scarecrow, I never thought I’d see you again,” I begin.
“I’m your husband, Ember. I’m not going to just let you walk away that easily.”
“But we aren’t married. Not really. Your mother was right when she said that.”
“Fuck my mother,” he snaps. “I know what she did to you. I was fucking blind, and I should have paid closer attention, and for that I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry you went through all of that alone.”
I look up into his eyes. “You know about your mother finding Papa Rich?”
He nods as his jaw stiffens. “I know about everything. She was cruel to you, tried to fuck with your head and attempted to make you feel you were losing your mind. And though I’ll never forgive her for what she did, I’m angrier with myself. I was so wrapped up in trying to get my life back. I wanted so desperately to have my normal to return. I kept telling myself that it was so I could care and provide for you, but that was total bullshit. I was being selfish and not focusing on you. I don’t blame you one bit for leaving. I would have run for the hills too.” He smirks and looks out the window at the falling snow. “Which you literally did.”
“You were trying your best,” I say. “And you deserved to have your life back. You had every right to want normal.” I release a deep breath I’ve been holding. “Your mother told me that I was holding you captive. That I was just as guilty as Papa Rich in kidnapping you—”