The crisp early morning breeze drifted through the window when Sidra awoke. The cry of the rooster had pulled her from her slumber, as it did most mornings. She sat up and stretched the stiffness out of her limbs in the early dawn glow pouring through the windows. She felt the cold as she climbed out from the covers of her bed and went over to her pile of clothes to dig for something clean to do her chores in for the day. Once she found something to wear she dressed quickly and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen to find her grandmother.
"Good morning," she said to her Grandmother, who appeared to have been awake for hours as she worked away in the kitchen. Sidra could feel the heat of the fire in the kitchen as her grandmother worked. Though the two shared a room, Sidra never heard when her grandmother awoke and slipped back to work in her kitchen.
"Ah, good morning, dear," her grandmother said as she placed a plate of eggs in front of Sidra. It was nice that her Grandmother took the time to do this each morning, it reminded her that a hearty breakfast was the best way to begin the day.
"Thank you," Sidra took a bite and enjoyed the flavor of the warm eggs on her tongue. It was one of those comforts she never grew tired of, the first bite of a warm meal in the cold mornings.
"Of course, you know what I always say about a healthy breakfast," her grandmother said.
Sidra smiled at her grandmother around a large mouthful of eggs. Sidra enjoyed these small moments with Grams in the morning. Selene slept in rather late each day since she was tired so often. It gave Sidra time in the morning to chat with her grandmother before she started her work for the day.
"I'm going out to train and do the chores," Sidra said as she finished the last bite of egg on her plate. "We need a bit more firewood."
"Alright, don't work too hard out there," her grandmother said as Sidra stood up from the table. She took her plate into the kitchen to give it a quick wash before preparing to start the chores of the day. They were self-assigned chores to take on the heavy work around the household. Grams was too old and Selene too frail to chop firewood or maintain the yard, so Sidra took it on, plus, it let her feel useful. She grabbed her jacket and laced her boots before opening the front door.
Sidra braced herself for the cold when she opened the front door. The way the chill felt in the mornings was far different than it felt in the evenings. The morning cold always gave way to warmer afternoons, but afternoon chill sat in the air, becoming colder as the stars rose into the sky. Sidra had always preferred the mornings.
She walked over the shed a few paces away from the house and pulled out her father's practice dummies she had been using for several years. Sidra didn't have many memories of her father left, they faded away with time, though she still missed both him and her mother dearly. Though she could no longer remember the sound of their voices or the way they smelled, she had fragments of memories of her father teaching her how to fight. A sad smile crossed her face as she remembered the arguments he'd get into with her mother. The two had always been at odds about it, her mother saying a woman shouldn't fight and her father arguing that protection was something all people should know.
Sidra didn't know if she still practiced with these dummies to protect herself, sure, it had come in handy a few times. Once, when she was a few years younger, she had thought she'd gotten away with stealing a pastry from the bakery in town, but someone had seen and tried to call the guards forward. She'd protected herself then when she'd shoved her elbow hard into the chest of the man holding her, he had fallen back and let go, gasping for air, and she'd had enough time to run away before she'd been caught. It wasn't one of her best memories, and she'd dropped the pastry during the run, but she liked that she'd bested someone much stronger than her. She practiced with the dummies now as a ritual to keep her father's memory alive. She could hear the way he'd correct her form or tell her to try harder when she was out here in the mornings.
She thought of her father now as she placed the dummies out into the yard. They were made of thick leather, filled with mud and straw, and were covered in an array of stitches where Sidra had to repair them after practice. She stepped twenty paces back from the first one and pulled a handful of throwing knives from her belt loop. Sidra widened her legs, narrowed her eyes, and pulled her arm back in a fluid motion. She'd spent years practicing her hand-to-hand combat, able to twirl and slice her knife with ease, but there was something about distance fighting she didn't have the skill for. She flung her arm forward, hoping to connect with the dummy, but the knife went sailing past its head and ricocheted off a nearby tree.
Sidra didn't like to admit it, but it never took her long to become frustrated with the throwing knives. She quickly decided it was best to spend her efforts chopping wood for the fireplace later. She knew what her father would say, that she was being impatient, that she was letting her anger get the best of her, but she whispered a quick apology aloud, knowing nobody would hear, but it made her feel a bit better as she put the dummies away. Chopping firewood was still useful, she justified to herself. So, she did just that, making quick work of splitting the nearby logs in half. She enjoyed the weight of the axe in her hand and felt the moment when it connected to the log and sent a crack down the length of it.
When Sidra finished chopping wood she put the axe away against the side of her house and went to check on the chickens for eggs. She enjoyed this part of the day, the little birds squabble as she checked their coop. Sidra found a few eggs and put them into a basket to take inside. When she was done with that she tended to the small-garden before asking her grandmother for the list of things she needed from town. It wasn't much today, Sidra did a good job of collecting everything yesterday, so she waited until later in the day to take the path from the house to town.
The sun was near the center of the sky, the midday heat causing sweat to bead on her forehead when she decided she had done enough and made her way back into the house. She wiped the sweat off her forehead as she stepped through the door. She made her way into the kitchen for some water.
Her grandmother was working in front of a large pot when Sidra caught sight of her in the kitchen. The putrid smell caused Sidra's eyes to water, and she took a step back for a second, she waved her hand in front of her nose to dissipate the stench. She didn't normally hate the smell of the medicines her grandmother made, but this one was vicious, it's stench seeped into every crevice of the small kitchen.
"What is that stink?" Sidra asked. Her grandmother stirred the disgusting concoction with language motions and Sidra wondered briefly if her grandmother had destroyed her sense of smell after so many years of working with medicines.
"English Boxwood," her grandmother says without looking up.
"Ugh, I don't even want to know," Sidra says plugging her nose as she leaves the kitchen.
She found Selene on the couch when she left the kitchen. She looked as delicate as she normally did, though she ate plenty, her arms and legs were thin and bruised easily. She was wearing her light blue dress, their grandmother had stitched it for her, and she had socks on. She aimlessly kicked around her feet as she read her book, flipping the page every minute or so. Lost in another novel.
"Hey," Sidra said. She could tell she had interrupted her sister by the way she stopped kicking her feet for a second.
"Hi, Sid," Selene said. She didn't even look up from her book as Sidra stood over her sister with her cup of water in her hand. Sidra took a sip.
"Want to go check the traps with me? Grandma's medicine smells awful today," Sidra leaned over her little sister and pulled the book out of her hands. It wasn't really an invitation so much as a demand.
"It'll be fun, and you'll have to learn eventually," Sidra added at the angry expression that crossed her sister's face as she looked at the book that had just been ripped out of her hands. Selene looked like she was going to reject when she caught sight of their grandmother giving her a stern look around the corner of the kitchen. She let out a long sigh of discontentment before she looked up at Sidra.
"Okay, fine," she sighed. "Is it raining?"
"Nope, just cloudy. You gotta put some boots on though. I'll wait here," Sidra said with a smile. Selene got up and ran to her room to get her boots and Sidra could see her grandmother give her a nod of thanks before she slipped back into her kitchen.
"Okay, let's go," Selene stomped out of her room in her rarely worn boots. One of her laces was untied and Sidra bent down to fix it before the two of them stepped outside onto the porch.
"How about you tell me about your newest book as we walk?" Sidra asked.
"Really?" Sidra could hear the excitement in Selene's voice. Being asked about books was one of the ways Sidra could always cheer up her younger sister.
"Yeah, let me hear it," Sidra said.
"Alright so," Selene started, she took a deep breath as she prepared to give her expectedly strong opinions, "I liked it but not as much as I liked the last one. Not a lot is happening, they just keep going to each other's houses and talking a lot. I think I liked the book about building latrines more than this one." Sidra let out a long laugh as the two sisters walked through the woods, she stepped over a root and then stopped to point it out to her sister before she continued the conversation.
"You've got one hell of an opinion," Sidra said to her. She held out her hand to steady Selene as she stepped over the log.
"Hey, you can't say that word," Sidra said pouting, "It's a bad word."
"Oh, I'm sure you've read worse."
"I skip them! I'm gonna tell grandma you're saying bad words," she threatened.
"You wouldn't," Sidra let out a fake gasp. She couldn't help but laugh a bit afterward.
"I would," Selene threatened as she gave Sidra a little shove. Sidra responded with another shocked expression before she gave a very light shove back. She made sure to be careful, she hated that she treated her sister like china, afraid it would break at any moment. She tried to treat her as normal as possible but felt bad whenever she was accidentally too rough. Still, the two of them were laughing as they walked up to the first trap nestled between the two trees.
"It's empty," Selene sighs with relief as the sisters look at the trap before them. Sidra knew Selene didn't like seeing dead things. Selene was just a child and Sidra wanted to shield her from the world as long as possible. Still, learning how to trap is important, so she dragged Selene out with her occasionally.
"That's okay, let's check the second," Sidra said to her. She led Selene through the trees a bit further away, where a second trap was nestled next to one of the bushes that overcrowded this forest. This one was just as empty as the first. Sidra told Selene to wait for a moment and walked several paces away, where a third trap was nestled between some ferns, Sidra looked down disappointed that this one sat empty on the forest floor as well.
"They're all empty," Sidra said as she walked back to her sister.
"Not our lucky day," Selene said, trying to sound disappointed, but Sidra could hear the relief in her voice as she spoke.
"Yeah, that's alright. We can walk back now," Sidra shrugged.
The two weren't too far away from the house, ten minutes at best, but it didn't stop Selene from dragging her feet after a few steps.
"Sidra, I'm tired," Selene whined, "Can I have a piggyback ride?"
"You want a piggyback ride?" Sidra repeated. She raised her hand up her chin as if thinking it over before a wide smile crossed her face and she opened her arms. "Alright, hop on." Sidra got down on her knees and turned away from Selene, who excitedly got behind her and threw her arms over Sidra's shoulders.
Sidra grabbed her sister's legs and stood up. She pretended to fall over and Selene let out a little shout before Sidra stood up straight and began to carry her sister through the trees.
"You're getting heavy," Sidra groaned, "Probably because you sit around all day."
"Hey, that's mean," Selene said as she gripped her sister's shoulders tighter, still afraid she's going to fall off.
"I'm kidding," Sidra said. "Alright, here we go."
Sidra took exaggerated steps through the forest, she stomped her feet into the ground with each moment while she huffed her breath in fake exhaustion. Selene giggled as Sidra trampled through the undergrowth. Sidra took a moment to spin around in a circle, her sister let out another laugh as she twirled.
They weren't far from the house now, Sidra passed by the vegetable garden she had tended to earlier and then walked up to the steps of the porch where she stopped.
"Okay, you gotta hop off," Sidra said. Selene dropped off her sister's back and ran up the three little steps to the porch.
"Thanks, Sid," Selene said before she opened the door and ran into the house. She left the door wide open behind her and Sidra followed up the steps and into the house after her. She closed the door behind her.
"Sid, can you come in here for a moment?" her grandmother called from the kitchen.
"Oh, sure," Sidra said. She took her boots off by the door, Selene had run into her room to take hers off, and Sidra could see a trail of mud down the hallway in her sister's wake. She gently put her boots by the door and walked into the kitchen to see her grandmother.
Her grandmother was sitting on her little stool when Sidra walked in, she was scribbling in one of her cookbooks but stopped when Sidra stepped through the doorway.
"How was Selene on the walk?" her grandmother asked. There was a tone of worry in her voice. "It's a bit far out to the traps, but she's been resting a lot lately."
"She was fine," Sidra said sincerely. "I gave her a piggyback ride home since she didn't want to walk. She had fun."
"Oh, that's good. I'm glad," her grandmother said, putting her pen between the pages of her book and closing it. She goes to stand up from her stool and Sidra offers her grandmother her arm to help her stand up.
Her grandmother looked like she was about to say more when Selene walked into the kitchen, an empty cup of water in her hand.
"What are you two talking about?" Selene narrowed her eyes as she stepped into the kitchen to fill up her water with the jug on the counter.
"How the traps were empty," Sidra answered her.
"Oh, yeah, that sucked," Selene said, making a face. Sidra could hear the sarcasm in her tone.
"You know, for someone who loves rabbit soup, you got to know where it comes from," Sidra crossed her arms.
"I prefer to live a life of ignorance," her sister said sticking out her tongue. Selene was only ten, but she knew a lot of bigger words from the books she spent all her time reading. She was far from living a life of ignorance but Sidra didn't want to argue with her. She watched as Selene took her water cup and walked back out of the kitchen. Sidra listened to her footsteps walk down the hallway, and then the quiet shut of her door knowing Selene was inevitably going to return to the novel Sidra had whisked away earlier.
Sidra turned as her grandmother sighed.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, I just worry," her grandmother said. She looked away from Sidra and began to chop what smelled like ginger to the boiling pot on the fire.
"Don't worry too much, Grams. We have plenty of rabbits left and I chopped down a good deal of wood this morning, we'll be prepared for winter in no time." Her grandmother's expression was hard to read but that happened often with her grandmother. Sidra knew she had lived through more than Sidra could ever know.
"Thank you, Sid. For always taking care of Selene and me. I don't know what we'd do without you," her grandmother said. She rested a hand on Sidra's arm for a moment before she went back to chopping up more of the ginger.
"That's what I'm here for," Sidra gave her grandmother a wide smile. "Speaking of taking care, what did you need from town today?"
"Oh. This is it. Not much today." Her grandmother stepped away from the ginger and reached for one of the notebooks she left scattered around the kitchen. Sidra watched as she flipped through a few of the pages before finding the one she was looking for. Her grandmother ripped out the page and handed it over to Sidra.
"Great. I'll take care of this," Sidra said as she folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into her pocket.
"Oh, and Sid," her grandmother said, "It will be your birthday soon. Think about the kind of cake you'd want."
"Don't even worry about that, Grams," Sidra said waving off the thought.
"Well, alright. Just think about the flavor you'd want." Her grandmother reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a small pouch of coins to give to Sidra. Sidra took the list and the pouch and gave her grandmother a hug before she walked out of the kitchen.
**
The walk into town lacked the constant drizzle of the day before. The air was still wet with moisture, as it tended to be in Moros, but the rain had yet to begin falling from the sky in heavy droplets. The weather hadn't changed much since the walk to the traps, and Sidra was glad to see the weather being so uncharacteristically agreeable.
When Sidra got to town she stopped at the window of the bookstore and gave a small wave to the man who owned the store. Thomas was a nice man, who seemed to intentionally turn his gaze away from Sidra when she snuck the occasional book into her bag without paying. She had always been grateful for that. He waved in her direction before going back to the novel that was placed on the counter in front of him. Selene was still busy with the last book, so Sidra walked past the store and down the street further towards the shop that sold the ingredients Sidra's grandmother had asked her to acquire.
Sidra recognized the familiar worn sign that read "Arda's Herbarium" as she approached. It was one of the older buildings in the town, the stone weathered smooth from the rain and the winters, and the sign had several large cracks in it. The faded font was barely visible, a once vibrant green, now pale and smudged.
The bell chimed as Sidra stepped in. The woman at the counter, Arda, was as old as her
Grandmother with graying hair and deep wrinkles around her eyes and on her forehead. She was nice to Sidra though, probably because she brought in so much business, and looked up as Sidra stepped into the warmth of the store.
"Good afternoon, Sidra," the woman smiled at her. Arda's lips were thin and cracked as she pulled them back over her yellowed teeth. She was a nice woman but Sidra had to admit that her smile was eerie. With her yellowed smile and pointed nose Sidra had always wondered why this woman wasn't considered a Mythic by the town, she looked far more creepy than her grandmother did. Sidra would never admit that aloud though.
"Hi, Arda. This is everything I need today." Sidra said as she stepped up to the counter and pulled the note her grandmother had given her out of her pocket. She unfolded it and handed it over to Arda who took it between her long, bony fingers and read over the messy print of her grandmother's handwriting.
"Looks like less than yesterday," Arda had a pair of glasses that hung around her neck and she pulled them up onto the bridge of her pointed nose so she could read the list properly.
"It's a bit less, yeah," Sidra said as she shuffled her feet. She liked the smell of this shop, it had that scent of dried leaves that reminded her of home, and it was kept nice and warm even on the coldest days of Moros. Still, Sidra was a little uncomfortable with Arda.
"It'll be about an hour for me to get everything packaged up for you. Why don't you come back then for it?"
"Okay, thank you," Sidra said. She turned around and opened the door of the shop to leave. She stepped out and looked down the length of the street for where she could go to kill time. She normally walked down the square a bit while the sun was still up and it was a nice day for it, so she began to head in that direction. The town square of Moros was quaint with several flower-beds that were taken care of by members of the town. There were a few benches seated around them. Sidra took a seat on one of these benches and looked up at the sky. The clouds looked a bit darker than they had when she first came to town, now a deep gray rather than a pale white, and she leaned her back and looked at the way they moved across the sky.
Her grandmother had said that her birthday was soon. Sidra wondered how she had almost forgotten about it. It wasn't like she had a busy life where she didn't notice these kinds of things. She had noticed that the weather was changing, it was getting colder earlier into the evenings, but she thought she still had a few more weeks to prepare for winter. Her grandmother had asked her what kind of cake she wanted and she thought about it now as she leaned her head back toward the sky. She wasn't a big fan of sweets so she'd probably just suggest vanilla, she didn't like chocolate and it was too expensive. She looked at the clouds again, she loved the way they moved across the sky. So simple. So at ease. She wondered what it was like to be a cloud.
She was being stupid. You couldn't be a cloud. Clouds didn't have feelings. She looked around at the other people milling about the square. She'd known most of them for decades but wasn't close with any of them, they moved quickly down the streets even when the weather was nice, they had grown so accustomed to avoiding the rain. She watched as a mother pulled her child along behind her, he was crying about something, the mother looked tired. Sidra thought the woman looked familiar, she probably had come around the house to get one of her grandmother's sleeping draughts. It was common for mothers to visit them for that.
People came over for medicines from her grandmother a few times a week but they always seemed to avoid Sidra and Selene. They bought their medicines quickly and left down the trail towards town with a polite goodbye. Sidra didn't mind, she didn't really like people in the first place. She preferred just her family. She saw how fake people were with each other when she was in town. People asked how you were but they never seemed to care what you answered. Sidra looked back up at the clouds.
Sidra felt a raindrop fall on her cheek as she looked up. A few seconds later she felt another one on her hand. Guess the sky had decided to start drizzling as she sat there. She sighed and put her hood up and turned her face towards the flower beds near the bench. Sidra didn't know how long she sat there in the light drizzle of the rain and watched the way it landed on the fragile petals of the flowers. It was peaceful and she found herself almost dozing off at the hypotonic way the water landed. It had probably been enough time she thought. She stood up to head back toward the shop.
Sidra sighed and pulled her hood up tighter around her face to combat the rain as she made her way back to the shop she had left earlier. She was thankful for that warmth again as she opened the door and stepped in. Sidra shook off some of the water from her coat by the door before she walked back over to the counter where Arda was wrapping a package. There were several more packages wrapped next to her as she worked.
"Just in time," Arda said as she tied up the last package. She pushed them all forward as Sidra pulled out the coin pouch her grandmother had given her and paid for the packages. She glanced out the window as she packed the neatly wrapped packages into her bag. It was starting to get dark. She didn't realize how long she'd been daydreaming on the bench. Sidra wondered why she always did this, always stayed out too late, lost track of time.
She made her way through town and quickly took the dirt path home.
**
When Sidra arrived home, the first thing she noticed is that the door was slightly open. That's odd, she thought to herself as she walked up quietly to the steps. She looked through the window but it was too dark to see anything, it was this late in the evening and the fire wasn't lit. It was a cold night, so the fire should have been giving off its usual glow. She reached for her knife at her belt and entered the house as quietly as possible. She made sure to lock the door behind her, it wasn't safe to leave it open.
She didn't call out for anyone, she followed along the side of the wall as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She felt the familiar gap in the wall that leads to the kitchen and peered into the space looking for any signs of her grandmother. This wasn't right, they weren't supposed to leave the house, that was her job. She was the fighter.
She noticed in the dim light that her grandmother's ingredients were scattered across the floor, but aside from that, the room was empty. She quietly walked further into the house toward the back of the house, both doors were open, and she stepped towards her sister's room first looking for any sign of Selene.
Sidra squinted her eyes to try and see further into the dark, she could make out from the shadows that her sister's room was a mess. Selene kept the room tidy, her books carefully placed on the shelves and clothes kept neatly in her dresser. Now, the room had books scattered everywhere, the bookshelf was turned over, and the shutters were ripped off the wall. Sidra walked in and quietly lifted the bookcase, to make sure Selene wasn't trapped underneath, but the space was empty. Sidra feared the worst as she turned and walked across the hall to the room she shared with her grandmother.
The door was agape, and she kicked it open with one foot to see a statuesque figure standing in the center of the room. She put her knife out in front of her, a small weapon for such a big opponent.
"Grams?" she called out. Sidra had cleared the rest of the house, so she knew this tall figure was the only intruder in her home. The figure turned toward her and she caught the glint of a knife in his hand before it rushed toward her.
The person, no, the man, was large, towering over her with slow movements. Unlucky for him, she thought to herself before dipping under his outstretched arms and coming up quickly to slice his neck. She felt her knife connect with flesh, the way there's a resistance at first before sliding easily through the rest of the skin. It was a clean slice, and Sidra backed up in time for the man to fall forward onto his knees, feebly pressing his hands against his neck to stop the bleeding.
It seemed strange there was just one. There was no one else in the room, and she had surveyed the rest of the house. There was no sign of her grandmother or sister.
Sidra leaned down to get a better look at the man's face. He had deep-set wrinkles around his eyes, and the rest was hidden away by a mask. She reached forward and dug her hand into the wound at his neck. "Are there others?" She hissed, barely above a whisper. The man grunted in pain and shook his head, she dug her fingers in a little further, "Are you sure?" She asked again. He winced in pain but made no noise, he glanced at something just behind her.
She turned quickly, and the man, seeing her attention was away from him, used the last of his energy to lift his knife and attempt to cripple her. Sidra saw this from the corner of her eye and quickly raised her arm, the knife digging into her forearm before she could block it. She hissed in pain, turned her attention back on the man.
"Seems you have nothing more to say," she said before bringing her knife up to his temple and quickly stabbing it into the side of his head. The man's life drained out of his eyes and his body fell back onto the floor with a soft thud.
Sidra hadn't killed anyone before. Animals, sure, but that was different. Animals couldn't speak. She didn't know where this aggression had come from, the fact she had so calmly killed a man. It was probably because he was in her home, she wanted to protect her family, but it still left her feeling an uneasiness. If she could kill someone that easily, what else could she do? It made her feel bad like she was doing something she shouldn't. Killing was wrong and she'd done it with ease. What was wrong with her?
Sidra noticed the trickle of her blood that dripped down her arm; she quickly ripped the sleeve off her shirt and tied it around the slice, a slight struggle with one hand, but she managed.
"Sidra," she heard from the room. It was barely a whisper, but she recognized her grandmother's voice.
"Grams?" She answered, quietly as possible.
"Yes, Sid, it's me," she heard her grandmother say and Sidra looked around the dimly lit room for the lantern she kept near the door. She found it, and quickly lit it, so she could see her grandmother through the gloom.
The sight she was greeted with brought her to tears. Her grandmother was hunched against the back wall, her arms pressed into her stomach, hiding back a bloom of red blood.
"Grams," she cried, taking the few steps to fall to the floor next to her grandmother. "What happened?"
"They came for you," her grandmother said between haggard breaths. "They were using me as bait. Hoping I would call out for you."
"What, why?" Sidra asked.
"They need you. Find my book." Sidra could tell it was paining her grandmother to speak, her breathing was haggard and each word came out with more of a struggle than the last.
"No, Grams, hold on. We can fix this. We can save you." She tried to move her grandmother's hand out of the way, but that just made the bleeding worse, she could see now just how much blood her grandmother had lost.
"It's too late for me, you need to find my book. They have your sister, in case he couldn't get you," she feebly motioned to the body on the floor.
"No," Sidra wanted to cry but she stood there in shock as she looked down at her grandmother. "Grams, I can't do this without you. I need you."
"I'm sorry, Sid. I tried to protect you. I love you and your sister so much, please find her. Keep her safe. They won't kill her, they need you," her grandmother's eyes had started to gloss over. She could see her fading out of this world.
"Grams..." Sidra crouched down and pulled her grandmother into her arms, "I can save you. Please, please just hold on. I love you."
"I'm sorry, Sid," her grandmother said barely above a whisper.
But it was too late. She felt the moment when her grandmother stopped breathing, her head rolled back against the wall behind her, and her hands fell away from the wound on her stomach.
The cry Sidra let out at that moment was barely human. It echoed throughout the dark of the room, a deep wail of agony. She'd lost her grandmother. She'd lost her parents. Her sister was gone.
The death of her parents had happened when she was younger. One day they dropped her and her sister off at her grandmother's house and never returned. It wasn't until weeks later when Grams had told the girls they passed away, so the pain wasn't as sudden. There had already been a distance between Sidra and her parents, it was easier to accept, though the pain had cut deep it came with a sad acceptance that ended as a dull throb when she thought about them. When she thought of how her grandmother died, it was sudden and painful, and the agony Sidra was feeling felt like a vicious wound that would never heal. She'd been in town daydreaming about being a cloud instead of here, at home, protecting her family. She was an idiot.
She needed to find that book and then she needed to find her sister.