Elsa paused before her nook in the Chimney and tried to shake off the heavy sadness pressing down on her, at least from her features. She adjusted her scarf to cover the bruise on her forehead, forced a smile to fool her mother and pushed open the door.

Helena sat at the kitchen table, her back to Elsa. The latch clicked into place and her mother’s bony shoulders seemed to sag even further. Elsa took in the scene. Something was wrong.

"Mother?"

Helena didn’t answer.

“Is everything alright?”

Elsa hung up her borrowed coat and lantern. She stored her basket and moved to her mother’s side. Helena held something in her hands. Elsa inched closer and recognised the burgundy material of her singed coat.

A tear ran down Helena’s cheek and Elsa felt instant remorse. What must her mother have thought on seeing the ruined coat? How she must have worried Elsa was dead or injured somewhere in the darkness.

She crouched before her. “I’m okay.”

Her mother clutched the material until her bony knuckles turned white.

“I’m here,” Elsa said. “If you’d just look at me, you’d see I’m alright.”

Helena pushed herself onto unsteady feet. Elsa stood with her. They faced each other, and Elsa was horrified to see pain in her mother’s eyes, pain she had caused. Elsa searched for a way to apologise.

“Mother, I’m so—”

Helena lifted a hand and slapped her hard across the face. Elsa caught the full sting of a calloused palm across her cheek and the force turned her head to one side.

“How dare you,” her mother said.

Shocked, Elsa placed her palm against the spot.

“Melker sent me your coat. The one you left behind following your meeting.”

Elsa’s mind reeled from the blow. “My meeting?”

“Yes! Your meeting with a man. Isn’t that what you’re really doing while I’m working myself close to death?”

It took Elsa a moment to find her voice. “You think I’ve got a lover? That’s why you’re upset?”

Her mother’s body vibrated with anger. “After all I’ve done to protect you. You’re no better than those Bad Seeds working in the Lonely Flame. I should have left you there all those years ago. You’re a whore!”

Elsa could feel her own anger rising. “This is ridiculous.”

“Who is he?” Helena shook the coat in her face. “Some dirty, useless Smoker?”

Elsa batted the material away. “There is no man and if you’d just listen—”

“Do you deny Melker found your coat in the forbidden zone by the lake?”

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“No, but if you’d only let me explain—”

“You and your lover were overheard together, Elsa!”

“Is that what he told you?”

Her mother twisted the coat in her hand. “Melker’s had to go to great lengths to cover up your foul deeds. You’ve humiliated him. He’s furious. His note said he’s doubting the decision he made to help our family.”

Elsa threw up her hands. “It’s all about Melker isn’t it? Melker’s impatient, Melker’s upset, Melker’s unhappy. What about us?”

“Melker is our chance at happiness! Why is that so hard for you to understand? You need to go to him and apologise.”

Elsa refused. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t care. This isn’t just your life, it’s both of ours. I’ve carried more than my share of our burdens for far too long. I’ve been so patient with you. I’ve let this farce of an apprenticeship go on and on.”

“It’s no farce,” Elsa said. “I’m good at what I do, very good.”

Her mother shook her head, not hearing. “I’ve watched, powerless, as my brother stole you away with his promises of a better life, and I’ve hurt each day as you left to help him and not me. Enough now. I’m tired. I’m tired of working endlessly in the plantations to keep us going on the off chance you will make enough money to pay the pardon. I want to be respectable again. I want to feel warm and safe and clean.”

Her mother gulped a deep, heaving breath before she continued.

“My life wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she said. “I thought when I made it to Haven, I’d be happy. I told myself I’d avoided the worst humanity could throw at me and everything was going to be okay.”

Helena sank back onto the wooden chair and wrung her hands in her lap, unable to stop the gush of hurtful words now they had started. “Sometimes I look at you and I hate you for destroying my chance at happiness. And, after a really bad day in the plantations, I can’t help wishing I hadn’t kept my promise to your father. Why did I let him convince me it was wrong? I can’t stop thinking I should have let you go. These thoughts sneak into my head and won’t go away. They turn round and round, and those days I can’t speak to you. I can barely look at you. I hear your nightmares. I hear you wake in tears, but I can’t bring myself to comfort you. A part of me is even happy you are suffering, as I’m suffering.”

Her mother wiped her eyes.

“Can’t you see what this place is doing to me? It’s turning my soul dark. I know you don’t love Melker; I know he’s not the man you would have chosen for yourself. But I need you to choose him for me, before it’s too late. I beg you.”

Elsa regarded her mother’s worn hands because she knew if she looked at her face the tears would fall.

“What is it you want me to do?”

“Apologise to him. Melker wrote that he would forgive you, if you come to him tonight.”

“And if I don’t?” Elsa asked.

“Then he’ll withdraw his protection. We’ll be alone, like every other person in the Darkzone.”

The time Elsa had been dreading had arrived. She had to decide. The thought of entering the Guardhouse a second time left her terrified and the thought of grovelling to Melker made her feel sick. But…Elsa bit her lip to stop it trembling…but, if the captain was busy with her, he’d not be thinking of her uncle or Noak or Finn. She just needed to focus on this objective, then she might be able to make it through the encounter.

“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice a thin whisper. “I’ll find Melker tonight and explain. I’ll make things right between us…you don’t have to worry anymore.”

For the first time in years, her mother’s shoulders relaxed.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”

Elsa put on her uncle’s oversized coat again. She made sure she had her knife.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Helena asked. “Perhaps, I can help.”

“No,” Elsa said. “I’ll be fine.”

Elsa lit the lantern again and noted, with bitter irony, that her mother made no mention of wasted lamp oil this time. She made the flame tall and bright. Elsa really needed the light’s help. Her dark thoughts were threatening to overwhelm her and on this mission she couldn’t be weak.

She tried not to think of everything she’d seen Melker do over the past few days. Or how she would have to hide what she knew and pretend to care for him. If Elsa couldn’t learn to accept his touch, she’d have to turn herself numb. She had until the Guardhouse to do it.

“Elsa,” her mother said, before she left, “I do love you. Despite what I said.”

The cold spread through Elsa’s chest. The numbness already beginning.

“I know.”