On the ride, Mirkra handed out baggies of chocolates. Kilen tore his open and shook the bag over his face to dump them into his mouth, but I studied the bag I was given; the light-brown apple stamped on the paper, and the gold-brown ribbon that tied it shut. It had Apple Dough’s style all over it, and I cracked a smile. But I set the bag on the bench, too worried about getting sick from the bumpy ride to eat.

An hour later, Kilen took my bag and dumped its contents into his mouth.

I stood when the spokes of the chocolate factory peeked over the snow. I wasn’t sure what I expected—gray clouds? Ash? I shook my fingertips to relieve the numbness and breathed a sigh of relief when we plunged over the last hill and I saw Zane waiting, leaning against the factory’s door with a smug grin.

My Patrolman glided over as we came to an unsteady stop. I was sure I would have barfed if the ride had gone on any longer—Kilen’s face had paled in the last hour; his hand hadn’t left his stomach.

Zane lifted me down, his brows tilting inward like he was seeing me again for the first time. I felt his gaze lingering even after I turned to accept Wanda’s slap on the shoulder as a way of greeting. The bug-eyed girl went inside, and I readjusted my coat which fit looser on me this year than it had the last. I fished an elastic band out of my pocket too, so I could contain my hair and stop scaring everyone.

“Trite,” Zane’s voice rose to stop me when I tried to follow the others in. I turned to find him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Anything we should…talk about?”

“I’m fine. I need to meet with everyone. It’s important—”

He caught my hand and tugged me back to him. My muscles groaned from flexing, and I blinked back a rush of vertigo.

“Are you bloody joking?” Zane asked, all humour gone. “Helen, you’re a spinbug. What happened to you over there?” He locked his gloved hand with mine.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” I snapped. I didn’t mean for it to come out harshly, but Zane blinked.

“Miss Helen!” Apple sang from the factory entrance. She was all bells and bows, wearing a dress made entirely of the same sparkling, gold-brown ribbons that had tied the bags of chocolates on the ride.

I untangled my fingers from Zane’s and bit my lips together. “Sorry. I’m just tired,” I muttered, mustering an apologetic smile. Zane put on a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His stare followed me as I jogged up the factory stairs to where Apple swallowed me in arms and bangles.

“I’ve been counting down the days until I could see you again, friend!” she gushed, linking her arm through mine. Her earrings had gotten larger, her lipstick deeper. “By the sharpest wind, you look exhausted! Perhaps an orange tea would do the trick. I’ll brew one and you’ll be feeling yourself again in a pinch.”