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“She needs to eat,” she kept on, “and she’d die before she came out here.”

“Fine,” I said, hauling out of my chair and lifting the tray, “but she hates me.”

“She does not hate you.”

I leveled a stare at her.

“Okay, she hates you, but food is a great way to bribe her into not hating you. Trust me.”

And with that, she spun me towards the door and shoved.

I cursed my situation the entire way over. When I reached her hut, I knocked and announced myself before trying the handle.

The door was bolted.

Of course it would be.

I shifted on my feet, listening to the dog barking and her scolding it while I waited to be let in. After the thing had quieted, I heard the bolt being pulled back. The door opened, and I just caught a flash of her retreating back into the dark.

I took in a breath, resigned myself to misery, and followed behind her.

The dog growled when I entered, but I did my best to ignore him. I set the tray on the empty table and cleared my throat.

“Ess sent this over for you. They wouldn’t let her bring it herself.”

Fenli glanced my way, eyed the food, and frowned. The dog growled again.

I wasn’t sure which one hated me more, but I decided to focus on the dog. His ears were too big for the rest of him. One stood straight up, but the other had a lazy tip that bent forward. There was a line down the middle of his face, dark on one side and marbled on the other, white and brown and black all at once. He was easily the most ridiculous looking animal I’d ever seen. In that sense, his name—Goose—suited him.

Leaning over, I plucked out a chunk of meat from the stew and tossed it to him. He gobbled it up, and just like that—no more growling. Now he looked at me with alert ears and bright eyes.

Smiling, I made the mistake of glancing at my wife.

Livid.

I shrugged, and she went back to what she’d been doing. Which looked like a lot of nothing. She sat in her chair in the back and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. I looked back down at the table.

I wondered where she’d hidden all the things that’d been cluttering it when I’d come that first day back. I hadn’t gotten a good look, but I’d begun to realize that she hadn’t wanted me to see what she’d had out. Which, of course, made me even more curious.

I scanned the room. There was no sign of where her things had been stowed, but there were certainly a lot of options. She had junk everywhere. I’d look, and I’d wonder, but I wouldn’t go snooping.

Whatever it had been, it was her secret to keep.

I considered sitting at the table to mend my shirt, but I thought better of it when I eyed her food going cold. If I didn’t give her space, she’d likely never relent to eating. I could only imagine how Ess would blame me for it, so I turned back to my corner. The three-legged stool was there, and I sat while I made myself busy with a needle and thread. Eventually, Fenlidid creep over. She swiped the tray and brought it back with her to the chair and the fire. I did my best to pretend not to notice, but the painful truth was that every part of me was paying attention to her, straining to notice anything and everything she did. Like I was the hunter and she was the prey.Toke. I needed to get my ass back out to the forest and stalking deer trails so I could remember what I was about.

When I’d finished my mending (and Fenli had finished her dinner, licking each finger and dumping the tray on the end table), I set about tidying my things. I sorted through my blades and frowned.

“Did you move one of my knives?”

I glanced over in time to catch her bristle at my words, but she said nothing in return. She continued looking into the fire, same as she always did. I knew enough to know she wasn’t mute like some supposed. Her lack of reply was as damning as an outright confession.

“I don’t mind. I’m just gonna need it tomorrow.”

Nothing.

“Fenli.”

Her eyes flashed to me.