Ander - Chapter 6, Subchapter 10
#255 of Ander
10
Andrew stopped halfway down the path towards the town hall. "Sarah, is there something wrong?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder.
"I just realised how terribly irresponsible it was of me to drop those pieces of glass in the snow. Why, any youngster could come along and step in them! You go on ahead, Andrew. I'll be with you in a few minutes."
Andrew started back. "I can help you with that."
"No, Andrew. I don't want you digging around in the snow with that hand of yours."
"But you're not even wearing any gl -"
"It will only take a minute. Your friends need you. Your family needs you. Don't keep them waiting."
Andrew seemed caught in an invisible tug of war between herself and the big stone building at the end of the path. He looked at her with those big brown eyes of his, those eyes that reminded her so strongly of Kadai. "Are you sure?"
"Very," she replied with a smile. "Go on now. I'll be right with you."
Andrew hesitated, and Sarah could practically feel those eyes gliding over her face, searching for any signs of dishonesty. After what felt like an eternity, an eternity in which she was forced to wear a smile on the outside while screaming on the inside, he finally nodded his head and started back down the path, but just as Sarah was on the verge of losing control, he turned back one last time. "Sarah?"
She caught her smile just in time, keeping it in place with sheer force of will. "Yes, Andrew?"
"Thanks again. For everything."
"You don't need to thank me, dear. Just try not to punch any more windows, okay?"
Andrew chuckled weakly. "Okay."
Sarah stood in place, with her hands folded neatly in front of her, and waited until Andrew made it all the way to the end of the path, stepped inside the town hall, and closed the big double doors behind him. After that... well...
Her smile fell as if someone had tied weights to the corners of her mouth. She turned away quickly, just in case someone was looking through the windows, and made her way back to the spot where she had picked the glass from Andrew's hand. It was easy enough to find, with all the hazy spots of blood fused into the snow, bright red in the middle, but fading to lighter pink near the edges. Through the wavering blur of her tears, she could almost convince herself they were just flowers growing out of the winter snow.
She dropped down to her knees and stuck her hands in the snow, looking for those sharp slivers of glass that weren't really glass at all, but the seeds that had given birth to those strange red blooms. She pulled them out, one by one, translucent triangles covered in frozen blood
(Kadai's blood)
and put them aside, lining them up
(Spick and span.)
neatly so she could dispose of them properly, somewhere they couldn't hurt anyone...
She was having trouble breathing. The air she drew in was as sharp as the broken glass, stinging her throat and lungs with cold, and the plumes of mist that kept bursting out from between her lips were uneven and jagged, accompanied by soft little moans she simply could not keep herself from making. Her whole body was shivering, but she didn't think it was purely because of the cold.
She dug another piece of glass
(seed)
out of the snow. This one was big, and the blood stuck to the edges wasn't completely dry yet. It glistened as she tilted it back and forth, catching the sunlight and throwing it back into her eyes as a dirty, semi-coagulated sheen.
This was Ander's blood, but it was more than that. This was her blood, too.
And Kadai's.
She moaned out loud and clapped a hand over her mouth. Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped into the snow, joining with the blood of her son.
She had to put a stop to this. Right now.
Sarah dug around in her pockets, frantically searching for her handkerchief, and then remembered she didn't have it anymore. She had given it to Andrew, whose blood was now mingling with her tears, frozen together in the hard, cold snow. She had used it to cover his wound, and now she had nothing left to cover her own.
So let it out, she thought. Let it out and let it out quickly. Get it out and get it done, because what's done is done.
So she cried. She thought about her first meeting with Kadai, how he had tilted his head in confusion,
(What are you?)
and she cried.
She thought about their secret visits, about the time she had brought him a chicken pie and he had scarfed the whole thing down in two huge bites. She thought about the flaky bits of crust that had stuck to his nose, and she cried.
She remembered their first kiss,
(Get down here.)
and she cried.
She remembered the time they spent together in the pass, the one spot that belonged to neither Wolf nor Fox, staring up at the long scar of blue sky running through the crumbling grey walls of the mountain.
And she cried.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, wiped vigorously. She didn't know how much time she had left until Michael or Mateo came looking for her, so she had to clean herself up right. She took a few deep, calming breaths, wiped her eyes yet again, and stood up, brushing the snow off her dress and smoothing out the wrinkles all in one. She took the slivers of glass and tossed them beneath a
(beech tree)
dried up old juniper bush. Not ideal, but at least they weren't in the middle of the road anymore. It was done.
Sarah folded her hands,
(what's done is done)
and went back to the town hall, smiling warmly.