“I need to sort out my thing on my own too.”

Zane’s brows were tilted in, but the rest of his face relaxed. “I’ll stop nagging you about your personal troubles then, Helen. But you’re not quite right in the head, and I can’t figure out why.”

I glanced off. “I wish everyone would stop saying that.”

He hugged me against his chest, his arms warming my shoulders and the familiar song of him drifted into my ears. “Anyway, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring me a pinch of cheer to know I beat Cheat, fair and square.”

I fought an untimely smirk and my cheek rounded against his chest. “Careful, Patrolman. He’s probably hiding in a cave, plotting a new way to try and destroy you.”

“I certainly hope so. I’d love to toss that ashworm into the snow a time again.”

The wedding music resonated through the forest: heavy drums and wooden flutes. Giggles reached us, and I spotted Kaley and Lucas. There was a twinkle in Lucas’s topaz eyes when he spun Kaley around and caught her again.

Zane locked his hands behind my back. I imagined we were back at the factory, dancing with the dwarves amidst the scents of the midday feast. I wondered if this was what happiness was supposed to look like: Lucas whispering things—completely wicked things, likely—and Kaley pinching her lips together, seeming determined not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. Despite my better judgement, the sight gave me a hope I’d promised myself I would never entertain again. It made me imagine staying here. It made me wonder if Kaley would stay here, and if Grandma would come. The old woman could spend her days knitting scarves and blankets with Theresa.

My gaze wandered to the queen sitting in her high-backed, twig chair. The candles in the Crown of Pines were lit, flickering in the breeze that sifted through the woods.

If it ever became safe enough, Kaley, Grandma, and I could make lives here.

But I wondered if I’d be able to leave Winston behind.

The second time I’d met with Stephen—the church guy in Waterloo—it was because I’d brought him a coffee as a thank you for the day he found me sopping wet on his church’s doorstep. I’d wandered into the beautiful building early in the morning and found it in a state of quiet serenity. The sunrise glow brushed in through the stained-glass, warming the benches in the sanctuary. Particles of dust glittered in the air like brassy confetti, silently drifting about. I’d admired the scene for several minutes without moving a muscle. It was the most peaceful I’d felt in months.

“You’re back.” Stephen appeared from a hallway carrying a box.