He was awakened by the cry of a baby.

For a moment, he sat there confused. The twins… they were up. But hadn’t he just gotten them to sleep? Or...had he drifted off? 

He got up from his chair and stretched.  The sun was getting ready to set, and there was so much left to do before dinner— mainly making the dinner. The kids would have to help once they got back in. 

He glanced outside as he stoked the fire. It had stopped snowing, leaving the world covered in a perfect blanket of white. Alright -- first, make sure the house wasn't completely dark. and then go check on the twins. More than likely, they were probably-- 

"Dad!"

The voices were faint, but they caught his attention. The poker was abandoned as he darted to the window. 

Yes… there in the fading daylight, he could see the kids in the distance, sprinting towards the house like their feet were on fire. But why were they — 

“ Dad! Dad!”

A chill ran through him as it hit him. He saw Bem... and he saw Ada, but...

...Where was Charlie?

This was all his fault. No matter what anyone said, he knew-- this whole thing was all his fault.

In the other room, their daughter— their dear Charlie— was fighting for her life. There was nothing he could do, save for pace and wait. 

 If only he hadn’t fallen asleep. If only he had gone with them. 

..If only he had been faster.

He dared to sneak a glance in his wife’s direction. Neeka was in a chair, positioned directly across from Charlene's door. She had been like that for hours, hunched over and staring at the floor. Had she looked up, he knew he couldn’t meet her eye. He wasn’t sure if he ever could meet her eye again. 

What the hell was he even supposed to tell her? What was he supposed to tell anyone? “Sorry” was not going to cut it and it never would. "Sorry" would be the cruelest thing to say right now!

If Neeka ever acknowledged his existence, it would be a sheer miracle. Honestly, he would have preferred it if she screamed at him-- if she laid into him with words and fists, calling him everything under the sun and cursing his name. 

Anything would have been better than the suffocating, chilling silence. 

Downstairs, Gran was sitting with the children. They had not exchanged a lot of words since she and Neeka had rushed home. Actually, not a lot of words had been exchanged between him and anyone since Charlie had been found.

Gods only knew what they all thought about this.

The house was too damn quiet!  If it weren't for the faint ticking of the clock, one would believe that the world was void of sound!

Had everyone else fallen asleep? It was pretty late -- practically morning. The sky was growing lighter as night faded to be replaced with the rosy dawn, bringing dim light into the dark hallway. 

The arrival of the day did nothing to calm his soul. 

What was taking them so long? 

Parker had been the first to find them, quickly springing into action to usher the distraught father to his cart. Charlie had been wrapped up in every blanket they had brought. Parker had to do that, since he was the only one not doused in water. If he had tried to help, her only source of warmth would have been rendered useless. 

They rode in the back while the doctor rushed them back to the house. He had to sit by her, doing his best not to get her any wetter than she already was. She looked so small, bundled up like that. Her eyes were shut, leaving only the occasional shiver as an indication of life. But were those shivers, or was that just the cart bumping along? 

Oh, what he’d give for her eyes to open again…

He was suddenly aware of the sound of footsteps. Neeka snapped to attention, rising from her chair expectantly. Both parents stood wordlessly in wait. 

Dr. Parker exited the bedroom. He seemed quite startled at their sudden appearance, but the surprise was quickly replaced with…

No…

“I’m —“ started Parker, swallowing hard before continuing. “I’m so... so sorry…”

No…

The two parents looked to each other, then pushed past the doctor, a storm of emotions swirling between them. 

Inside the room, the Healer was hurriedly, wordlessly, prepping the room for Final Rights. It was the fastest Mr. Bennett had seen the man move the entire time he had been there.

But what disturbed him more than the lackadaisical Healer was the sight before him. 

Charlie…

She lay there, eyes closed and hands folded. It wasn’t like the stories, where folks looked like sleeping angels. Indeed, she did look angelic, but not at all peaceful. It looked like she had been suffering up to her last... 

He felt cold. No, he couldn’t say it. There was no way…

Whoosh!

He watched in dismay as the Healer shook out a long, black sheet. 

The death shroud. 

The Healer approached the bed and…

Another chill as the sheet covered her. It was real… Oh gods, this was real…

The tears threatened his vision before he could stop them. Maybe it was stress, or a lack of sleep — or maybe it was because he had always been an emotional man— but he could not force down the grief. 

Charlene was gone…

He felt a hand slip into his, prompting him to look down. Neeka kept her eyes locked on the bed, but squeezed her partner’s hand. She might not ever forgive him-- and rightfully so-- but she hadn’t given up on him yet. 

 “It seems the cause of death was hypothermia,” Parker said, fiddling with his glasses and avoiding their eyes. “I would like to offer a second opinion... However,” he glared at the busy Healer. “I’m afraid I have been denied from going anywhere near the child.”

“It’s dangerous to touch the deceased before the Final Rights,” the Healer remarked curtly. “Besides— what good would a ‘second opinion’ do now? There was nothing that could have been done, especially by you." (This was said with a sneer.) "Only I could have done something, but the girl was already too far gone by the time I arrived. The Goddess does not waste her time on lost causes.”

If Parker had not grabbed his free hand— and Neeka had not been holding the other so firmly—  Mr. Bennett would have buried a fist nto the holy man’s face. 

Ordained or not-- this bastard had just killed a child and he was acting like it was nothing?!

Neeka’s grip tightened. Whether it was to prevent him-- or her-- from striking was unclear. Her eyes were fixed on the Healer, but if looks could kill...

“Now,” the Healer continued, oblivious to the danger. “I must ask you all to leave the room so I can recite the prayers. After I am done, you may take as much time as needed. But, honestly: the quicker the funeral's arranged, the bett —“

His callous monologue was interrupted by a groan. The sound was quiet, but it slashed through the dreariness like a sword. 

It had just came from the bed...

A small spark of hope flickered. Could it be…?

All eyes were focused on the resting place. Yes… the sheets were being pushed aside... 

She rose from the bed slowly, a yawn escaping from her as she rubbed her eyes and sleepily looked around. Her appearance might have been a bit disheveled, but she was very much alive and well. 

Charlie.

Both parents were too stunned to speak. However, the doctor had found words in their stead. 

“'Don't touch her', 'She's too far gone’, huh?” Parker didn’t even try to keep the disdain out of his voice as he regarded the Healer. "'Better make funeral arrangements quickly', huh? 'The Goddess wouldn't waste her time on a little girl', right?"

The Healer, for his part, looked ready to keel over. He had gone as white as a sheet, trembling like a leaf as the child — who was not dead— stretched. 

“I…I,” was all he could utter in his disbelief. "But she was--"

Charlene suddenly turned in their direction with a start, as if she was just noticing them. She stared at them, mouth open, the confusion on her face morphing slowly into—

“Charlene!” Relief took over as Neeka let go of his hand to hug the little girl. 

Charlie jumped at the sudden motion, squirming around as her mother kissed and hugged her. Her eyes grew wide as she wildly looked around her room. Was she trying to figure out how she got back here? She seemed a little lost…

And then her eyes landed on him. 

Now— Charlene had always been a quiet child. She was sweet and gentle, but not particularly a talker. This was not a bad thing, but people did tend to comment on that fact. She also wasn't one to be loud. 

Which is why-- naturally-- it came as a surprise to hear the scream. A blood-curdling scream rang out of Charlene as she thrashed and howled like a maniac.

"Let go of me!"

“Charlene?!” Neeka tried to soothe the child to no avail. “Charlene! Honey, sweetheart — it’s alright!”

The girl's thrashing slowed. Her eyes went wide as she went completely rigid.  Slowly, she looked up at her mother. 

“Wait…” Charlene looked ready to faint. “Did… did you just say ‘Charlene’?”

Neeka nodded. 

For a moment, their daughter didn’t say anything. She stared at all of them blankly, her mouth agape. 

"No..."

With a force he did not know she possessed, Charlie shoved her mother away.

"No..."

She tumbled out of the bed and tried to put as much distance between her and them as possible. She cowered against the wall like a cornered mouse.

“No…no…” She sat hunched on the floor, eyes shut as she pulled at her hair, her breathing growing wilder with each passing second. “No, no, no, no, no!"

Something was wrong. Clearly-- something was wrong. Sure, waking up in bed after such an ordeal would be a lot for anyone, but this wasn't the remnants of a nightmare -- this was full-blown panic. 

“C-Charlene?” he tried to step closer, but Charlie held up her hand again as if warding off a monster. He stopped-- what else could he do? The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. 

 “Charlie..." He knelt on the floor, trying to make himself as small as possible. "Charlie, please-- it’s us.”

But he already knew the answer even before the words came out. 

“Who?!” she cried, eyes full of tears and fear. There was not a trace of recognition. “Where am I, and who the hell are you?!”