Evie

It’s been a week since Yelena pushed me down the stairs, and in that time she’s left me to myself. After an examination, the doctor concluded nothing was broken, though he cautioned me the bones in my left forearm might be cracked, and put a strict ban on my using it for a couple of weeks, which means I’ve been off the hook as far as cleaning duties.

I pretend to be upset by this news, but the truth is I’m ecstatic. Having no chores means there’s been nothing preventing me from escaping to my forest sanctuary, the one place where I feel happy and safe.

I go where I like when I like, having no orders to pick or gather anything, and spend most of my time exploring, ranging farther than I’ve ever gone, climbing higher, seeking out new adventures and honing my survivalist skills.

I carry a knife with me now, and a sling, and I stoop often to pick up stones and practice my aim. Yesterday I pegged a rabbit with a lethal shot so I was able to skin and spit it over a fire and cook my lunch out under the open sky. It wanted salt, but it was seasoned with freedom and self-sufficiency, and my palate was satisfied.

Burying the entrails and the fur, I thought it a shame I couldn’t find some better use for it. If I had the knowledge, I might have cured the hide and used the fur to line the inside of my shoes, or something just as clever. Perhaps I’ll have a lesson from the tanner next time I’m in town.

Besides having a calming effect on my soul, being alone in nature provides a lot of time for introspection, so I often find myself reflecting on my present situation.

Now fully disillusioned, I no longer harbor any foolish notions that my sister is anything but a monster, and her mother is just as awful. Father isn’t evil like them, but he’s been fully brainwashed by their charms so that he takes their side every time, without ever giving consideration to my claims.

I don’t know what my role will be going forward. I know I don’t want to stay in that house, living in fear of the next time one of them will unleash their sadism on me. But I don’t know where I should go, either.

Yelena’s words the day she pushed me down the stairs were cruel, but she wasn’t wrong. A woman like me, undesirable in looks or accomplishments, lacking any earthly possessions, where could I possibly go?

No one in Mistleton would open their home to me; if I came for help, they’d only send me right back to my father’s house. If I could walk to the next town, I might escape his shadow, but I will be a stranger and a vagrant to them, an outcast. The only work readily available to a woman my age that would provide board would have to be in a brothel, and I’m not sure I’m that desperate yet.

It’s with these thoughts churning in my mind that I happen across a cave I’ve never visited before high on the east side of the mountain. I approach it cautiously, loaded sling in hand, expecting at any moment for an animal to jump out and defend its territory. Standing at the entrance, I wait with my senses on high alert, listening for scuffling, sniffing the air for signs of occupancy, the scent of urine or rotting meat. But there is none of that; only the pleasant scent of wildflowers and mountain pines carried on the breeze. I decide to go further in.

The cave has a narrow opening, too small for a bear, but smaller animals have made their dens here in the past, if the dehydrated droppings and small tufts of hair and bits of bone in various corners are any indication. I mark these with mild interest, noting the place looks and smells long deserted.

It’s surprisingly spacious inside, about twice the size of my room with a ceiling high enough for me to stand upright in. The stone floor is rough and uneven, but, I think without really meaning to, that could easily be evened out by a thick layer of earth and pine needles. And if I packed more pine needles in the back, I could make a very comfortable bed indeed.

I freeze where I stand, holding my breath as an idea begins to take shape in my mind. It’s so simple, I realize, letting out my breath in a whoosh. It’s so obvious! Why didn’t I think of it before?

I could live in the forest! Here in this very cave, with four walls already built for me. No one would bother me up here; no one would even know I existed. In all my years wandering these forests, I’ve never seen another human this far up the mountain.

Yes, I could live here very comfortably, I think, looking around the cave with mounting excitement. Noticing tiny pinpoints of light coming through the ceiling, I poke around the earth a bit until it crumbles away, revealing a small hole in the stone that allows light inside. It will allow smoke to escape too, I think excitedly. And if I build a fire near the entrance, it will keep the animals out.

It’s perfect. A little home made just for me, sheltered from the wind and the elements, far from Laura and Yelena’s grasp…

My mind is made up as I begin to run about, first clearing out the old bones and fur leftover from the previous inhabitants, then eagerly collecting pine needles and handfuls of earth to cover the rocky cave floor. After about twenty minutes of this, however, I begin to see a flaw in my plan.

I’m lacking tools. A large burlap sack to carry the pine needles in, an axe to chop down saplings so I can weave a sturdy door. Rope will come in handy too, a shovel and a pot to cook stews in. I’ll need plenty of salt for seasoning and preservation, and flour as I won’t be able to harvest or mill my own.

I don’t have money to buy these supplies, but I can hunt and forage for things to trade when I go into town. Or, I think a little deviously as more and more brilliant ideas come flooding into my mind, I could just put them on Father’s tab…

It will take me a few days to get the basics established, perhaps a week. I’ll milk my injury in that time and spend every spare minute I have working on my new home. Then, when I’ve got the floor well packed and a bed assembled, I’ll leave the Stuart house forever, and I won’t look back.

Running down the mountain on my bare feet, I feel so elated I think I might take off flying any minute. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. All of the sudden, my grim future looks bright and exciting, with each new day filled with the challenge of survival.

I have so much to do! It’s spring now so food is plentiful, but I’ll have to start early drying wild greens, mushrooms, berries and lichens to have stores for winter. I know where sunflowers grow, so I can store plenty of seeds, and I know where to get apples and hazelnuts too. I can smoke fish and dry any extra game I harvest for jerky, and buy lard from town so I don’t have to subsist only on lean meats—like this my thoughts go on and on in an absolute whirlwind until I reach the edge of town.

Recalling I’m supposed to be milking my injury, I take my arm sling out of my pocket and arrange it over my shoulder. Then, being sure to measure my paces so I don’t appear too energetic, I make my way into town.

I should buy only a few things today, no more than I can carry with a single hand. I’m sure Father won’t look twice at any tab I run up on these basic survival essentials; he’ll just assume I’m running errands for Mrs. Agate. Even so, I don’t want to rouse suspicions by suddenly buying up a mountain of goods and carrying them off into the woods.

The bag for today, I decide. And some twine and a shovel. Just that much won’t raise any questions.

Minding my own business, I’m making my way through town when a man’s figure appears suddenly by my side, walking in step with me. I look up, and my heart skips an involuntary beat when I recognize Gil’s evil looking face grinning down at me.