He was trying to hide his distress, but I could see right through it as he went to the fading fire and crouched before it. “For now, I get them half the time, Ellasbeth the other.” His motions stirring the coals slowed. “I never knew what silence was before. I go to the office, come back to an empty apartment, go back to the office or the stables.” He looked up. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t feel so alone out here. Fewer reminders.”

I nodded, understanding. It still hurt that Ceri was gone. I could only imagine how quiet his apartments were with no one there but the many reminders of her and the girls. The warmth of the place was seeping into me, and I came forward, liking the old wooden planks and the dusty red woven rug. “Sorry.”

Trent set the poker back and dropped a small birch log on the coals. The bark flared and was gone. “Quen will see they’re safe and that Ellasbeth doesn’t warp them too badly. I’ve got my spells to work on until then. And business, of course.”

Hands in his pockets, he looked over the small hut, and I could see the long days stretching before him. That the girls were gone wasn’t exactly what I had been sorry about.

I scuffed the last of the dirt from my feet, not knowing what to do. Trent made a neutral smile and excused himself to go to the small counter set under a dark window. There was a teapot that made me think of Ceri, and I wasn’t surprised when Trent’s reaching hands hesitated. Shoulders stiffening, he drew it closer and took the lid off and looked inside. “You want some coffee?” he said as I faced the fire to give him some privacy. “I’ve got some decent instant.”

“Only if you want some.” I went to the shelves, drawn by a tiny birch bark canoe that I recognized from camp. A trophy with a horse on it was tucked behind it, and a hand-drawn picture of a flower behind that: memories. There was a half-burned birthday candle, a blue-jay feather, and a dusty stalk of wheat tucked into a wide-mouthed handmade pot, again from camp. I frowned, feeling as if I recognized it. Would my fingerprint match the one in the glaze? I wondered, afraid to bring it closer and see.