This isn't weird.

Oh, Gee

A peculiar sense of peace had settled over the cabin of Molly's pick-up truck on the return journey. The air itself seemed lighter, clearer, cleaner. They had stayed the entire day, saying their goodbyes to Eliza only when the sun began to vanish over the horizon.

Molly was talkative, a largely one-sided conversation as she gushed about the experience they had just shared. Molly breathlessly rambled when she was happy the same way that Millie did when she was anxious, blurting out dozens of thoughts at a time in one continuous run-on sentence, gaining speed with every word as her mouth tried valiantly to keep pace with her racing thoughts. It sort of felt like looking into a funhouse mirror, Millie thought, listening with a smile.

It was heartening to see Molly like this. This was the sister she remembered, the one who spent hours drawing up maps of the mythical realms they created together. Millie liked to dream up the big picture stuff, inventing kingdoms and wars and heroes and villains, fleshing out the lore, setting the stage; Molly liked to fill in the details, fastidiously crafting credible-sounding names for every last city, town, castle, and landmark, drawing out family trees for the royals, creating compendiums of magic spells and flora and fauna. 

They would sit together in the treehouse, Molly's maps spread out on the floor all around them while they went back and forth making up stories set in their little worlds. Millie favored tales about wizards and dragons while Molly preferred rebellious princesses and handsome stable boys. These worlds always had an inordinate amount of handsome stable boys. Some days, it felt like they lived in those fairytale worlds more than in the real one. Or maybe it was just how they made the real one bearable. It was strange to remember that once upon a time, they had been close. Best friends. Inseparable.

Millie thought that sister was long dead, but apparently, she had just been hidden away in a labyrinth of dusty books, patiently waiting to be found.

Unsurprisingly, Molly had left the church with a stack of books so tall that Millie had to take two trips to carry them all out. They were perfectly safe stowed away in the truck bed, but Molly kept turning her head to check on them through the back window, as if some bibliophilic bird of prey might swoop down and carry one off.

"Hey—thanks for bringin' me today, Cammy," she said. "This was the best day I've had in..." She trailed off. Whatever length of time it had been since her last good day, they both knew it was too long ago to be remembered.

"I'm glad you liked it," Millie replied.

"It was so good to see Ms. Doherty. She has so many fun stories. Do you think she gets lonely livin' by herself all the way out there?"

"I imagine so."

"I'm glad you've been visitin' her. She must really appreciate the company, and all the help. That's really nice of you."

Millie bit her lip lightly and shot her sister a sideways glance. "Maybe... when you're all healed up, maybe you could come and help her out sometimes once I go back to Oregon."

"Oh... yeah." For a moment, Molly was quiet. "You don't... have to go back, you know... if you didn't want to, I mean." She looked away, staring out the window into the distance. "You could stay here. If you wanted. This is your home, too." 

"Oh... Oh. Molly, I..." Millie looked over at her, then swallowed a lump in her throat and looked back to the road. "You know I don't belong here."

"No," Molly sighed. "I guess not. You gotta get back to Arthur and all that."

"Yeah," Millie mumbled. "Arthur."

It was three more miles before either of them spoke again.

"You don't love him," Molly said.