It was like before, after my father.
When I left the room, the door remained opened.
“I MEANT what I said,” I told her. “We leave here, I hear your voice.”
She looked from me to the front door, then back to me.
“It’s hard,” I said. “And it will be for a long time. But that’s why we have each other. Why we have a pack. We need to start remembering that again.”
I held out the quilted blanket for her to take, to cover her nudity should she choose to. I wasn’t going to push any harder than I already had, because I was worried it’d be too much.
She stared at my offering for a long time.
I thought maybe I’d failed.
But then she reached out carefully and took the quilt between her teeth. I let it slip between my fingers.
She dragged it along the floor and around the corner.
I heard the shift of bone and muscle. It sounded painful after so long.
There was a sigh.
I waited.
There was a shuffle of feet.
Elizabeth Bennett stepped around the corner, eyes tired but more human than they’d been in a long time. Her lightly colored hair fell along her shoulders, the quilt clutched tightly around her.
When she spoke, her voice was dry and raspy.
It was a wonderful thing.
She said, “I don’t mind being lonely when my heart tells me you are lonely too. Do you remember?”
“Dinah Shore,” I said. “You were dancing. You were in your green phase.”
“That song,” she said. “I told you it’s about staying behind. When others go to war.”
I played my part. “Staying behind or getting left behind?”
“Ox,” she cried, “there is a difference.”
SHE SHIFTED back
You did it, didn’t you?
no she wanted it
You did it, Ox. Trust me on that.
you need to come back
joe
are you there
JOE