Sisters Three (Completed)

3. Adair (2/2)

When Adair came in for dinner that night, Nurse gave her the news.

"I know this isn't the best time to mention it, so soon after Miss Brenna and Morna leaving, but the sooner you know it the better."

Adair steeled herself, not knowing what was coming, but knowing that she needed to get used to being broken.

"The men who killed your parents know that you and yours sisters are still in the county," Nurse said, picking at the plain brown bread that was still warm from the oven. "It was a stroke of luck that your- their aunts came to claim your sisters, for we could not hide you here much longer without the men finding out. We'll be high on their list when they figure out who we are."

"So what are you saying?" Adair asked, her voice so calm that it surprised even her. She gripped her glass of milk tightly.

"You can't stay here, Miss Adair," Nurse said, her eyes soft and beseeching. "I'm so sorry, but it's the only way you'll be safe. We've found someone who might take you in, but their farm is two days' ride away. You won't be able to see me again in case the men are still watching. But know that I'll still always care-"

Nurse didn't finished before Adair surged to her feet and pushed her plate into the middle of the table. "Thank you for the dinner, but I think I'm full. I'll be out in the stables," she said, schooling her features to the neutral blandness she reserved for formal functions. "Please let me know when you decide when I am to leave."

She turned sharply, walking to the door. All she wanted was to get out of the cottage and the suffocating smoke-filled air as fast as she could, but she couldn't bring herself to run. So instead she glided like she was supposed to at any ball, and only let her shoulders slump when she closed the door gently behind her.

The cold night air transformed her breath into thick clouds and the hairs on her arms stood at end. Only then did she realize she still gripped her dinner cup in her hand. She stared at the milk, noticing that crystals, like snowflakes, were growing from the sides. She dropped the cup, the clay shattering with a tinkling sound. She stepped over the shards on her way to the stables where she flopped onto the little mountain of straw she'd made earlier in the day.

Staring at the rafters, the tears finally dribbled down her cheeks. Even alone she wouldn't let herself sob, but she allowed the release of those silent tears. With each drip from her chin she imagined the aching in her chest leaving her body. How many tears would it take to be rid of this emptiness? She rolled over, pulling her knees to her chest.

It took her a few moments to notice the flicker of movement in the dark shadows of the stall across from her. It was the old nag's stall, and the sound of the horse breathing let her know it was in there. But this movement was too low and too fast to be the nag. This was something else. The image of a wolf or some other animal flashed through Adair's head briefly, but almost immediately she dismissed this as silly. It was more than likely just the dog. She sat up, holding her hand out.

"Here, boy," she said, raising her shoulder to wipe the last of the tears from her cheeks.

A few seconds elapsed before there came a shuffling from the stall. A moment more and a figure slunk out of the shadows and into what little moonlight there was. It was not a dog, nor yet a wolf. It was a person, standing slump-shouldered and sagging. Adair narrowed her eyes, withdrawing her hand. She said nothing, hoping perhaps whoever it was had not happened to see where she was, but then they moved closer, stopping just a few feet away. She saw his face then.

"Silver," she breathed, catching the familiar sight of her best friend's face. His cheekbones stood sharply on his face and his eyes sunk into pits of darkness. His arms were little more than twigs and his clothes hung baggy and ripped and filthy. His normally curly hair was tangled into mats. She offered her hand once again.

His fingers were cold as they wrapped around hers and she pulled him to her side. His knees felt like stones poking her side, but she didn't mind. He was here. Silver. Her true companion. She smiled, pushing back his hair from his forehead and staring at him as if he might disappear.

"You found me!" she said, cupping his cheeks. He nodded, his blue eyes just barely visible from their sunken position.

"They arrested all the servants," he said, his voice scratchy. "But I slipped out through one of our escape routes." He referred to the little warrens they had made through the back gardens in order to flee the house when her step-mother felt particularly snappish. They were tunnels hidden in overgrown rose and tomato bushes. It was no wonder that Silver could have lost pursuers in it.

"How'd you know I was here?" she asked, moving her hands to grip his and try to rub some warmth into his skin.

"I didn't. I just thought... this might be the most likely spot," he said, shivering from the cold and perhaps something more. "They told us they'd killed you all."

"You knew I wasn't dead, though," she whispered. "We know each other the best out of anyone. Right, Silver?"

"Of course," he said.

As Silver settled into the straw, his eyes drifting shut and his breathing leveling into the slow rhythm of deep sleep, Adair stretched beside him, holding herself up on one elbow and staring at his face. Here he was. Her shadow. Another orphan, another child without a home. Another outcast, far from anyone who thought twice about him. She ran her hand along his hair, petting it until she too drifted off.