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Twenty-seven

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Twenty-seven

"The crops seem to be coming along nicely," a raspy voice said from behind.

Arryn dusted the damp soil off her hands, filling the air around her with an earthy aroma. A purple top of a turnip peeked through the dirt, marking the fifth crop they had produced since settling here.

"Thanks, Daniel. Are you needing something?" Arryn stood to find her father's old friend behind her. His full, silver beard came down about mid neck. Above the beard, electric-blue eyes stared at her. They looked worn and tired.

"We were getting ready to have a meeting. Needing to discuss a supply run. We ran out of medical supplies four weeks ago after you rescued Savannah. We need to be prepared in case one of us gets sick," Daniel explained.

"Let me pack up my things and I'll be right there," Arryn agreed with a nod.

Daniel gave her a small smile and took off back towards the house. She gathered her tools, placing them back in the small bag she had found them in. The sound of footsteps drew near.

"What did Daniel want?" Claire asked, placing the turnips she had in a basket. Trinity followed behind her, doing the same with her own vegetables.

"He's wanting to plan a supply run. You should probably attend the meeting too."

"Are you going to go back out there?" Trinity asked. Her voice trembled slightly. Claire placed an arm around the young girl, pulling her small body towards her hip.

"I don't know. If they need me to I will," Arryn replied. She picked up the basket full of the home-grown vegetables.

"What if the sick people get you?" Trinity cried. Her eyebrows scrunched on her face as tears threatened to sting her eyes.

"That won't happen. I heard the world is getting better out there," Arryn lied.

Claire shot her an understanding look. "Yeah. Maybe we'll get to go back soon."

"And maybe Mommy and Daddy will be feeling better?" Trinity asked, her voice rising in excitement.

A knot tied itself in Arryn's stomach. Guilt consumed her like one of the rabids. "Maybe."

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