Across Two Lifetimes

: A

had told me. I remembered every word the captain had spoken, every pause be

saw him with my own eyes, a part of me continued to believe that he was

ut it was the only thing keeping

without touching the spoon. "I ate earlier." "You took two bites." "I'm not hungry." She

The family who owned it had left for a safer region when the fighting began,

e was barely enough room for everyone to sleep, but at least we wer

e had left me with a promise that he would return, and

food had gone cold. I swallowed a few mouthfuls, mostly because I couldn't bear to see the worry on her fa

elling me that Kael was in a better place or

he always took the warmest side of the bed. I wanted to argue with him over so

ptain telling me that Kael had fallen during the ret

larger towns where they could receive proper treatment, while the families who had fled the fight

s living nearby, collected water, and did whatever work we could find. It

hed clothes by the stream. I helped an elderly woman repair the fence around her small garden. I even m

self to laugh again. For a moment, I felt g

had carved for me resting in my palm. I ran my thumb over the

g Kael to appear and tease me about it. He would have told me that laughing wasn'

d through the trees. There was no answer. I clos

as only tiredness. I would wake in the morning feeling as though I had barely slept. My ar

lost something during the war, and there were still too many people who n

ing. The ground seemed to shift beneath my feet. I gripped the basket tightly and waited for

ediately. "What's wrong with you?" "Nothing." She took the basket from me

same thing yesterday when you nearly dropped the water pot." "I was distrac

omething is wrong." "Nothing is wrong. I'm just tired." She studied

on't." "You don't know that." "I'm not a child, Mara." "No, you're not." Her vo

ted I felt. How my head had begun aching in the evenings. How sometimes I woke in th

rry about already. "I'm all right," I told her. "I'll rest t

ough to help prepare supper. For a little while, I thought I had been right. Perhaps I had simply

n the bucket slipped from my hands. It struck the ground, spilling water across the pa

breath. "Amelia?" Mara's voice came from the doorway. I tried to answer, but the words wou

e women nearby to fetch the village healer. I wanted to protest. I wanted to tell her that there was no need t

weak. "She needs rest," the healer said. "And she must eat regularly. Give her warm broth and plenty of water." "Will she recover?" Mara

ng at the ceiling. I had spent so long grieving Kael that I hadn't n

had held my hands and told me not to worry. I had promised to wait for him. I had promi

ened me," she admitted. "I'm sorry." "Don't apologize. Just get better." I managed a weak s

ard those words a few weeks earlier, I might

ting. By evening, I could walk across the room without holding on to the furniture. Mara seemed relieved.

urning orange, and the distant hills were fading i

hen he returned. I had wanted a small garden where I could grow herbs and flowers. We

I had never imagined that one day I would be sitti

I whispered. The words were barely audible. For the first time since hearing of

ing in a world where he no longer existed. Of forgetting the little things about him. Of reaching a d

t beside me. "You should go inside," she said. "Th

edge of her sleeve. "Amelia?" I tried to tell her I was fine. I tried to take another b

ant. I could feel her arms around me, but I couldn't make my body move.

right, that she didn't need to be afraid. But the darkness was spreadin

rightened voices. Someone lifted me. Someone called my name. I tried to

smile, his warm hands around mine, and the promise h

ng. But as the darkness closed over me, I wond

ost cons