Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- Author’s Note
- Glossary
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Acknowledgments
Faye stood, rooted to the spot, as the helicopter disappeared into the sky. It flew over the Bloukrans and, quite possibly, directly above the spot where Clare had fallen. How Faye had longed for the paramedics to tell her everything was fine. To say she had done an excellent job taking care of Clare and that she would recover without complications. During the day, as she’d waited for the rescue, she’d imagined her relief when Clare was on her way to hospital. Instead, she felt bereft. Like a child might if she woke to find no gifts on Christmas morning. It was hard to be hopeful in the wake of Gcina and Vusi’s worried faces.
With the machine gone, the silence of the wilderness was restored. Faye looked around the field of fynbos. To her left, tufts of copper-tipped reeds bent with the weight of their knobbly brown seeds. Behind them, a family of squat protea trees, heavy with pine cone-like fruit, stood solid in the windless evening. She looked towards the mountains and felt her heart swell. The wilderness was not without, but within her. She thought about what Clare had said about not wanting to leave. She felt the same. How was it possible to stand in the middle of nowhere and yet, feel at home?
The light was fading and she knew she should get going. As she walked through the trees to pack her backpack, she silently thanked them. It seemed that they—the tall and straight, thick and gnarly, thin and supple and every tree in between—had not only sheltered her and Clare, but also revealed to her a sanctuary she’d take away and keep forever. The Faye leaving the forest wasn’t the Faye who’d arrived there.
She slid her arms through the straps and settled the bag on her back. The cavern beneath the branch seemed large and chilly without Clare in it. Faye wondered what animals might come by and whether they’d venture in, curious about the shape and scent of the place. She unwound the cable of ivy she’d used to tie back the branch responsible for funnelling the water into the shelter when she built it. The branch slowly swung back to where it had been with, Faye imagined, a sigh and a dirty look.
“Sorry, but thanks,” she said.