“What else did he say?” Father asks.

“I think that was it.”

“Think harder, girl.” He narrows his eyes. “What else did he fucking say?”

“That’s all I remember…”

The color slowly drains from his face, and Izzie sets down her spoon. They turn to look at each other, and their hands begin trembling.

Confused, I wait for them to explain, but they remain speechless. The only sounds are the flames crackling under the cauldron and the wind howling outside the windows.

“Go feed Phillippe, Belle,” Father demands. “Then make sure his horseshoes are secure.”

The word “Why” attempts to escape from my lips, but the crazed look in my father’s eyes keeps it trapped under my tongue.

He looks like he could murder me…

I wrap a shawl around my shoulders and head outside.

Through the window, I watch as Izzie and Father pace the floor, their faces contorting with worry.

Why is she crying?

Phillippe trots over to me and nudges my cheek.

“I missed you too, boy,” I say, watching Father cover his face with his hands. “Have they treated you well since I’ve been away?”

He shakes his head, and I run my fingers across his mangled mane.

“I’m so sorry. Do you know what’s going on in there?”

He neighs as I unravel a knot.

I lead him closer to the window so I can attempt to read Izzie’s lips, but Father glares at me and draws the drapes shut.

“Come on, Phillippe.” I sigh and lead him to the trough. “Whatever it is, I guess they’ll tell me tomorrow…”

When they finally allow me to return, the sun is rising on a new day, and the only words they’re willing to offer are cleaning demands.

A Sudden Goodbye

Belle

Eggs sizzle over the fire in the morning, their sound still far louder than the ongoing whispers between Izzie and Father.

The only sentences I’ve managed to catch so far are, “I’ll need to leave for the fair soon,” “You’ll need to stand watch,” and “Suitor Season still holds potential for you.”

I’ve lost all interest in straining to hear the rest. Instead, I focus my gaze on the view outside the window, watching the trees in the woods sway in the wind.

While I’m dreaming about spending a day under their canopies, their branches suddenly stretch toward the sun in unison, shooting thousands of pine needles into the sky.

They swirl and swarm under the clouds, spelling out two words.

Run, Belle.

I blink a few times. Run from what?

Run NOW.

A second message forms before the needles fall away, and the trees return to their stiff positions.

I scratch my head and pull the drapes shut.

Scooping fried yolks onto plates, I set them on the table and wait to hear the list of chores I’ll have the joy of completing today.