“So, I can’t possibly be like those men out in the woods then, can I?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I don’t even weigh in at a hundred and forty pounds after Thanksgiving,” said Peter. “And I wouldn’t place any bets on me being able to keep the conversation going if the Super Bowl came up, or cars, or soccer, or boobs, or soccer and boobs. But I do know who won the last ever Academy Award for best actress and I do have a lot to say about the stitching on your blouse and how much I love those rhinestone flowers, even if they were put on using a glue gun. But please stop me if you still have any doubts about us or else I’ll just keep talking.”

The girl shook her head in a Jesus H Christ kind of a way and no words came out.

“Pete,” said Cooper in a low voice behind him. “Super Bowl is soccer.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “How’d you even last this long?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s a miracle, I know.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you’ve got a heart as big as your Care Bear collection back home, but you don’t know what you’re walking into. Just leave me be and go.”

“Why?”

“Ain’t you lookin’ at me?”

Peter held her gaze. “Yeah. I’m looking at you.”

“Well, you ain’t looking right.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I mean,” said Peter. “I recognize your pale skin. I can see the darkness in your eyes from the journey you’ve taken to death and back again. You’re one of the Returned, but unless there’s something else I’m missing?”

The girl looked towards the cabin window where the snow was falling softly. Outside in the wood, aspens creaked wearily, made bone-brittle by winter. Without leaves, the woods couldn’t disguise the sound of muffled voices coming their way.

“They’ll be here any moment,” said Peter. “You don’t have to be scared.”

The girl smirked like his hollow words were funny somehow.

Peter cleared his throat. “You see that boy standing back there?”

The girl’s eyes darted over his shoulder. A quizzical look passed across her face, followed by a strange calmness and Peter knew she’d finally clocked the pallor of Cooper’s skin.

“You see that handsome man,” said Peter, “with his blond hair all golden like a waterfall at sundown now he let me wash it?”

Copper huffed. “I dint let you, Pete. When I woke up that time, my face was hangin’ over the foot of the bed with a wash tub full of water staring right up at me. I had no choice in the matter.”

“You did have a choice.”

“Huh? Your pa was standin’ over the bed ready to pin me down in case I bolted.”