Boots crunch across twigs on the ground. Mr. Rochester appears, looking sober and severe. Without a word, he reaches his arms up for Paige. She’s still a good three feet above him. Her feet dangle out of reach. I hold my breath.

She lifts her arms and then lets herself fall. He catches her easily, like her forty-five pounds is nothing at all. My hands clench at the branch I’m on. There’s trust between them, even if they’re both denying it. Even if they’re both grieving separately. It was clear in that single jump, where she left the branch and landed in his arms, knowing he would be there.

I don’t have that kind of safety net.

Grasping the top of the branch, I swing myself down so I’m hanging by my palms. The bark rips into my skin, leaving broken streaks of blood all the way down. I let myself go and fall onto the hard-packed ground. Shocks of pain shoot up my calves.

Mr. Rochester turns and walks away, carrying Paige in his arms.

I scoop up the kitten and carry her inside the mansion for the second time.

When we make it inside the door, Mr. Rochester sets Paige down and points toward the kitchen. “Get yourself a Pop-Tart and put it in the toaster. I’ll be in there in a minute to start it. And I might even make you some hot chocolate.”

She runs off without a backward glance. Children are in that strange place, where everything impacts them deeply, cuts linger for the rest of their lives. But they’re also resilient.

He turns to me when we’re alone. “Head upstairs.”

“I can get her the hot chocolate,” I say, licking my dry lips.

That earns me a dark look. “You’re a mess. Head upstairs. Clean yourself up.”

I look down and confirm that he’s right. I look fairly grotesque with my hands cut to ribbons. That doesn’t even count the way my ankle feels taut and swollen beneath my jeans. “I’m sorry about losing track of her.”

“We’ll talk when you aren’t covered in blood.”

I climb the stairs with the kitten in tow and set her down in her litterbox, which she uses right away. Ironically she’s probably been holding it sitting outside.