Sweat and tears filled the following weeks. She worked with the dagger, razor-thin slices coating her fingers like lace gloves, but she refused to give in. Sapphire knew she wasn’t ready when Martia sent her into the forest, but the desperation in the Home was nearly suffocating. The burden of stopping the slow death march of starvation from claiming them all now sat firmly on her shoulders.

She dug her nail into her scar as she recalled the memory, potent resentment coursing through her, as familiar as the worn scrap of fabric she pulled tighter around herself as the damp chill of the room began to settle into her bones.

It was then she heard the ringing of the bells, signalling the midnight hour. A warning to all those who lingered in the dark to return home and lock their doors.

The Beasts were hunting.

At the twelfth toll, she allowed herself to accept the other thing it signified as well.

Her birthday.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out. She closed her eyes tightly and willed her mind to slow.

Then the world fell away.

Mercy, not another vision …

The scene in front of her was familiar. Too familiar. A mostly felled willow, half tilting optimistically towards the sky, half splintered and shattered, rooted next to the girl she could never reach. It was dark, the world shrouded in frightening shadows, but as always, the girl’s cardinal red hair caught her eye, a guiding light in the storm.

Sapphire stared for only a moment longer before beginning the trek forward.

Her chest swelled as the pathway gave way to tall grass, each blade trailing against her skin. It only took the smallest brush at her back to let her know she wasn’t alone. Something nearby was watching her. Watching and waiting. Her heart rate spiked, as a spark of fear ignited her body. She was always the observer in these visions. Never noticed, never seen.

She took another step and finally saw the flowing hem of the girl’s black dress. She paused as she always did, waiting for the thunder to roll. She felt her shoulders relax slightly at the familiar sound. She knew what came next. She waited for the lightning that tore through the sky to strike the girl and end her life.

Sapphire would be left alone. And then she’d wake in a cold sweat, and spend the rest of the night staring out of the small window of the bedroom.

It always happened that way.

But today the girl spoke. Her voice was like a siren’s song.

‘Help me.’

Sapphire froze, fright rooting her to the spot.

‘Help me, Sapphire.’

The second time, the voice was harsher, no longer a plea but a demand, and Sapphire’s fear swelled. Still, she felt the pull between them. She allowed the tension to force her forward.