Time was not something she usually paid much attention to. On the homestead, the bigger picture mattered—the darkening of the sky, the ebbing of the tide, the snow hares changing color, the birds returning or flying south. That was how they marked the passage of time, in growing seasons and salmon runs, and the first snowfall. On school days, she took notice of the clock, but in a lackadaisical way. No one much cared if you got to school on time, not in the winter when some days it was so cold the trucks wouldn’t start, and not in the spring and fall when there were so many chores to do.

But now time commanded her attention. Down in the living room, Mama and Dad were cuddled together on the couch, talking quietly. Dad kept touching Mama’s bruised face and murmuring apologies, telling her how much he loved her.

At just past ten P.M., she heard Dad say, “Well, Cora, I am about to drop,” and Mama answered, “Me, too.”

Her parents turned off the generator and fed the fire one last time. Then Leni heard the rattle of the beaded curtain being pushed aside as they went into their room.

Then, quiet.

She lay there, counting whatever she could: her breaths, her heartbeats. She willed time to pass even as its passage frightened her.

She imagined different scenarios—going to meet Matthew, staying in bed, not getting caught, getting caught.

She told herself repeatedly that she was not waiting for midnight, that she wasn’t stupid and reckless enough to sneak out.

Midnight came. She heard the last little click of the hand on her clock.

She heard a birdcall through her window, a little trill of sound that wasn’t quite real.

Matthew.

She climbed out of bed and dressed warmly.

Every creak of the ladder terrified her, made her freeze in place. Every footstep on the floor did the same thing, so that it took her forever to reach the door. She stepped into her rubber boots and slipped into a down vest.

Holding her breath, she unclicked the lock, slid the bar latch, and opened the door.

Night air rushed in to greet her.

She could see Matthew standing on the crest of the hill above the beach, his outline against a pink and amethyst sky.

Leni closed the door and ran to him. He took her hand and together they ran through the grassy, wet yard, slipped over the rise, and down the stairs to the beach, where Matthew had laid out a blanket and set big rocks on each of the four corners.