When Ali caught sight of the house, a surge of emotions overwhelmed her. It was as if a tidal wave of worry crashed over her, threatening to consume her. Her best friend's daughter was battling a perilous illness, her husband's whereabouts remained a mystery, and now Willow had vanished deep into the woods, resurrecting memories Ali wished to bury. The weight of it all pressed heavily on her, urging her to seek solace in the embrace of her friend. With each step she took towards her neighbor Raina, her heart raced, yearning for the comfort that only a friend's touch could provide.
As Ali approached Raina, she couldn't help but notice the weariness etched in her eyes and the faint lines that seemed to have etched themselves deeper on her face since their last meeting. Raina, a woman of short stature and surprising strength, possessed hair so blond it nearly resembled a shimmering white halo. She always wore her hair in a swift bun at the back of her head, a practical choice for a woman who valued functionality above all else. Raina's plain appearance was instantly forgotten when her radiant smile lit up her face. With open arms, she welcomed Ali, while her husband brushed past, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Raina's smile persisted as she motioned for everyone to come inside. "Come, rest your weary feet. The Sweet farm is quite a trek. I'll make some tea. I have fresh-baked bread with butter, and dinner will be ready in a couple of hours."
The dining room unfolded before them in all its grandeur. Ali and Raina poured tea; the steam swirling upwards from the fragrant brew. Raina's daughter, Cyan, deftly sliced the warm bread, filling the room with its inviting aroma. The centerpiece of the room was an eight-foot-long table, meticulously crafted from rough-hewn maple planks. Simple benches ran along each side, while two chairs stood proudly at each end. Raina and her youngest child, Dirk, settled at one end, while Rolly, Raina's husband, claimed the other. The remaining seats on the benches were occupied by the rest of the family, each member choosing their familiar spot. The room was alive with laughter, conversation, the clinking of teacups, and the satisfying crunch of freshly baked bread. Dirk, a tall and slender boy of only four summers, tried to coax his sister Cyan into sharing a piece of her bread. Cyan, a petite girl with curly brown hair, possessed a wild spirit, enjoying hunting, fishing, and swordplay with her brothers. At twelve years old, she was closest in age to Willow, but her companions were often Fern and Zerin. Tye, a sixteen-year-old with dark curly hair mirroring his father's, boasted strong arms and legs. Seventeen-year-old Ronald, taller and leaner than his father, sat beside Cyan, occasionally nudging her and sharing a gentle smile. His straight brown hair was neatly cropped, framing his thin face. Zerin, seated next to Willow, abandoned his bread to showcase his juggling skills with three balls. Dirk, captivated by his brother's antics, erupted in uncontrollable laughter, his tiny palms clapping in delight. The other children at the table joined in the joyous mirth.
As the tea party drew to a close, Rolly's commanding voice sliced through the air, cutting through the jovial atmosphere. "We should head out and finish the evening chores before darkness falls. I'll join you all shortly," he declared. Each of Rolly's children made their way to the door, ready to tackle the tasks that awaited them outside.
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Zerin turned and beckoned Willow to follow. "Willow, care to lend me a hand?" he called out, to which she nodded eagerly and scampered after him.
Rolly gently grasped Raina's hand, giving it a tender squeeze. "Do you need me for anything?" he asked, a tinge of sadness in his smile.
Raina gently shook her head, a mixture of gratitude and concern etched on her face, as she motioned for Rolly to leave with a half-smile. She then turned to Ali, her voice barely audible, as if afraid that speaking any louder would shatter the fragile peace that enveloped the room. "What brings you to our humble abode today? It's not that I'm displeased to see you, but..." Her words trailed off, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging heavily in the air.
Summoning her courage, Ali responded, her voice steady yet laced with emotion. "I heard about your daughter, and it occurred to me that perhaps I could offer some comfort, help her find some peace. I wanted to be here to support you. It's the least I can do," she explained, feeling a lump forming in her throat, which she quickly swallowed. She needed to remain strong. "I'm also worried about my husband and your son, Lake, who hasn't returned. Since we must work together, it made sense for me to come here. Rolly mentioned that you've been holding a prayer circle each night. We should discuss and decide on our next course of action after that."
Raina rose from her seat, a pained expression crossing her weary face, each movement an arduous task. Gesturing for Ali to follow, they walked through the sitting room, its simplicity reflecting the overall modesty of the house. Worn wooden chairs encircled the crackling fire, the one closest to it adorned with vibrant patches, a testament to its cherished status. A rag rug lay on the floor, and beside the wood stove, a neatly stacked pile of firewood awaited the evening's chill. As they made their way down the hallway, the setting sun cast a warm, golden glow through the windows, illuminating their path. The distant sound of soft cries and faint movements grew louder as Raina opened the door to Fern's room. Stepping inside, they were greeted by an inundation of sunlight pouring in, bathing the room in an ethereal radiance. Raina hurriedly moved around the bed, gently closing the curtains to soften the harsh rays, shielding her daughter from their unwavering intensity. It was then that Ali's eyes fell upon Fern, lying on the bed, her fragile frame wracked with restlessness and soft, agonizing cries escaping her parched lips. The sight shattered Ali's heart into a thousand pieces. Fern's long, wavy red hair, once vibrant and flowing, now hung matted and neglected. Her once soft, round face now appeared gaunt, her skin as pale as the purest cream. Her limbs, once full of life, now resembled nothing more than fragile twigs on the precipice of breaking. It was painfully evident that Fern was gravely ill, and time was rapidly slipping away. Could her herbs help Fern? She worried that her health was already beyond her skills, but she would do all she could.
Turning to Ali, Raina's voice trembled with a potent mixture of desperation and hope. "She's been like this for days. No one can fathom why or how it happened." The unspoken plea for help hung heavily in the air, their shared burden weighing down their souls.