Winter Has Come | ✔ #1 Winter Series

Chapter 17

My gaze drops down to her straggly hair, drawing waves on the floorboards, her pale face and her wide open eyes. The strangled cry in me chokes a way out again.

Before I can physically do anything, the small frozen water bottle by her side catches my attention. When I was back here, it had been our only source of water. Sometimes we had to unscrew the pipes and get the water that way. Ice or not, it was still water.

Before I know it, I'm down on my knees next to her, grabbing the bottle and squeezing it between my hands, trying to warm it up.

"Here," Joshua says, reaching out for the bottle, "I'll do it. My fingers are warmer."

I don't argue and place the bottle into his outstretched hand. My eyes are on Mum again. She's breathing but very shallowly and my heart fills with huge amounts of worry. I don't want anything to happen to her.

"I'm here," I whisper but the words are lost on my lips.

When the frozen ice has melted just a little, Joshua cracks open the lid and I watch as a tiny drip falls into her mouth. She doesn't stir.

"C'mon," Joshua murmurs, sounding almost annoyed. "C'mon. Drink..."

And then two more drops fall in. She licks her lips and something like groan escapes from them.

"More," she seems to say, "More."

The relief floods through me all too fast and my breath quickens until it feels like I've run a mile. Mum's safe. She's not at the end. She's still going.

I got back in time.

* * *

Joshua continues to coax my mother to drink. After what seems like a long time, he turns towards me.

"Your sister," he says as though this is a fact. "Go find her."

I pick my way slowly down the stairs, calling Maisie's name over and over again, hoping she'll give me some sign of where she is.

"Maisie!"

No reply.

"Maisie!"

No reply.

After that, I begin to get desperate and start searching everywhere in the house. There's not a single nook or cranny that doesn't go unsearched.

Eventually, I head to my own bedroom, where the door is shut completely. My fingers curl over the knob and I slowly push it open.

There, on my bed, is tiny Maisie curled up in a ball.

"Maisie!" I say in part-relief and part-joy. She must have heard because her eyes move slightly.

"Meliee?" she murmurs.

"Joshua!" I call up the stairs, not bothering to hide the smile on my face. "I found her! I found her!"

There's the brief sound of loud footsteps as Joshua dashes down the stairs to check for himself. He shows no sign of emotion as he places his arms under her and scoops her up.

"Go upstairs," he says. "Tend to your Mum while I bring her up too."

I nod my head in obedience and scurry up the stairs to where my mother's still trying to suckle on the water like a baby. It's strange how a mother can look so helpless.

It's not long before Joshua joins me up in the attic. He seems to be puffed out from carrying my little sister up the long stairs but I try to ignore it. Instead, I focus on her gentle breathing instead of his rushed one.

"Daddy?" Maisie murmurs, eyes still closed.

Joshua looks at her in alarm, as though she just said she pooped herself. I lean forward and place an arm on hers.

"No, sweetie. Daddy's not here."

She rolls around, clearly upset.

"I want Daddy!" she moans.

Soon those moans turn into shrieks and she's there, reaching her arms out for the arms that once carried her to bed.

I try to console her but nothing works. Then, a hand on my shoulder stops me, mouth wide open.

"Hey," Joshua says, turning to Maisie. "Daddy's not here."

He reaches to stroke her cheek and she grabs it, but she doesn't reply.

"Not here?" she whispers.

His hand now moves to her mousy hair. "No, but I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Maisie bites her lip but, again, doesn't answer.

"Just quieten down, okay? Can you do that?"

Slowly, my sister nods.

"Good," Josh coons quietly.

I watch in amazement as he talks to my little sister, voice soft and gentle. He's a wonder. I could never get her to be like that, so transfixed and willing.

Maybe this kid has more to him than I first thought.