Seren waved at the two adults who weren’t moving with any hurry toward them. The expression on their dad’s face was still annoyed which threw a pit of guilt and shame in Seren’s stomach. They looked back into the house, the snow insulated the first floor room. Not keeping it warm but keeping it from getting colder.

They kicked their boots against the doorframe to shake off the clinging snow. Seren shivered under their poorly insulated winter clothes. Finding their jaw tensed hard to keep their teeth from chattering and it was making them ache. Their fingers were stiff as well, losing their dexterity. Even in the safety of their boots, their feet were nearly blocks of ice.

“I think it’s that one,” Mr. Asche called, pointing at the house Seren was standing in. They looked into it with new eyes, trying to imagine what it would have looked like in its prime. The picture overlapped with images of what his current house looked like. The modest and broken home contradicted the excessive and solidly built manor Seren was familiar with.

“Are you sure?” Seren called, stepping out and looking up to the second floor.

“Is the kitchen blue?” Mr. Asche asked. Seren turned to look at him curiously, waiting for him to expand on the weird euphemism. When he didn’t, Seren looked into the house to find the peeling paint around the far cabinets was powder blue.

“Oh! Yes! It’s blue.” Seren said, surprised but still excited.

“Then that’s it.” Mr. Asche said. He and Seren’s dad were only a few houses away, yet predictably Seren didn’t wait for them to catch up before entering the main room of the house.

The first floor combined three rooms into one. A sitting room, a dining room, and a kitchen were tightly packed together and shoved slightly to the side by an ill fitting staircase that was missing a few steps. The rug on the floor was bald in some places but dark with mold and fungus in others.

The first floor was devoid of snow but smelled foul from the rot and neglect. Random items were left abandoned on the floor. Several books, some notebooks and loose papers were nearly mulched into the floor.

Seren reached down and scooped up a random notebook that was crinkled hard like ice. It snapped and crackled as they opened it. Every page was filled with smeared writing that was made illegible with time.

“What’d you find?” Mr. Asche asked as he stepped into the doorway.

“A notebook,” Seren said idly. “It looks like it’s filled with writing. Wish I could read it.” Mr. Asche walked in and held out a hand, Seren placed the notebook into his hand and rubbed their hands together. Not just for warmth but something about the action was pleasant to them.

“It’s one of my old notebooks.” He said. “Writing was a hobby of mine as a kid.”

“Wow, you wrote stories?” Seren asked in awe.

“Sort of,” Mr. Asche frowned. “They were more just passing fancies.”

“What happened to that hobby?” Seren’s dad asked as he entered the house.

“Became obsolete.” Mr. Asche tossed the book to the floor in a shower of ice breaking off the notebook.

“Aww,” Seren said as they stared at the discarded notebook. “That would’ve been cool.” They lost interest and continued exploring the house’s forgotten corners.

“Obsolete, huh?” Seren’s dad asked skeptically.

“Yes.” Mr. Asche snapped curtly. “I moved to the city and there wasn’t time for such fancies.”

“You mean they weren’t tolerated.” Seren’s dad said. Mr. Asche turned a glare at him and Seren’s dad narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ve got you now. I’ve figured you out.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah. You- SEREN DO NOT GO UPSTAIRS!” Seren’s dad called suddenly. Causing a small avalanche of snow to fall from the sides. Seren stopped from halfway up the staircase.

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“Why?” They asked.

“Cause it’s dangerous, you have no idea what’s up there!” Their dad said. “Get down, now!”

“Fine…” Seren huffed and came back down the stairs. A few of the boards falling and rendering the staircase completely useless.

“See! If you had been up there we would never be able to get you down.” Their dad said as they steered Seren towards the door.

“Yes we would, I’d go out a window and slide down the snow.” Seren said with a teeth chattering grin.

“You’re cold as ice.” Their dad said, touching his wrist to Seren’s skin. He turned to Mr. Asche. “They need to warm up, we’re going back to the carriage.”

“Fine,” He said.

“I’m fine,” Seren insisted.

“No, you are not.” The voices trailed away as Seren and their dad walked away. Mr. Asche looked around the inside of the house for a few more long minutes.

“But I’m fine,” Seren still insisted as they were shoved up into the carriage.

“Your lips are blue,” their dad sighed. He turned to the driver, “is there a blanket or something put away somewhere?”

“I think so,” the driver nodded.

“Great, where?”

“I’ll grab it,” the driver hurried off.

“That would be great, thanks.” Seren’s dad called after. He brought his attention back to Seren, huddled on the floor of the carriage. They rocked back and forth as their teeth chattered.

“A-are you m-mad at m-me?” Seren stuttered, doing nothing made them more cold than when they were busy running around in the snow.

“For being cold?” Seren’s dad chuckled.

“No, f-for st-stealing.” Seren buried their face deeper into their knees.

“Oh,” their dad said quietly. He sighed and sat on the edge of the carriage, making it lean. He stared off in the snow and messed with his hair awkwardly.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said carefully. Planning his words slowly. “I’m mad at Mr. Asche for putting you in that position and making you feel like that was okay. I’m disappointed in you for doing something you knew was wrong.” Seren hunched their shoulders up and rolled up tighter.

“Mm srry” Seren mumbled into their legs.

“I know you are,” their dad said, “I…” their dad sighed and smoothed his hair back. “I know you’re better than that. You’re a good kid, and I’m afraid that he’s going to turn you into someone-” Their dad stopped as he couldn’t think of the right words.

“Bad?” Seren asked, peeking out from their knees.

“No… well maybe.” their dad winced as his brain tried to force itself to come up with a better explanation. “No, I… I don’t want him to turn you into someone you don’t want to be. Someone who isn’t happy.” Seren thought about this. They thought about how they are happy, but also how stealing made them miserable.

“Is Mr. Asche happy?” Seren asked.

“That’s a question for him,” their dad said but murmured under his breath; “that’s probably why we’re here.” Seren was sure they weren’t supposed to hear that. The driver returned with a blanket and handed it to Seren’s dad. He shook it out and wrapped it around Seren’s shoulders.

“You sit there and get warm okay?” Their dad instructed.

“Okay,” Seren said. They huddled up to the seat and rested their head on it.

Outside the carriage, Clark leaned against the door with a sigh. Rubbing his eyes tiredly. He looked up to see Eric heading back.

“So now what?” Clark called to him.

“Lunch probably,” Eric said back. He gestured to the driver who sighed and went back to the rear of the carriage.

“Really?” Clark asked skeptically.

“Not hungry?” Eric asked as he stopped in the cleared road. Clark stared unflinching at Eric. “Okay, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’?” Clark snapped. “You dragged us all the way out here because you’re having a mid-life crisis?”

“I am not,” Eric huffed. “You said you had it all figured out and the best you could do was a midlife crisis?” Clark huffed and shrugged.

“No, you got the ghost of childhood trauma haunting you and you’re working through some things.” Clark said, “but I hate that you’ve brought Seren along and have been doing your damndest to pass along that baggage to them.”

“I am not.”

“Calling daydreaming and fun passing fancies obsolete?” He asked. “Really?”

“They are, you won’t get anywhere in this world if you don’t stand up, sort out your priorities, and get shit done.” Eric said sternly. “There’s no room for dreaming of something better. No room for fun.”

“Oh, shut up.” Clark rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Leaning on the carriage and making it tilt. “You need a little dreaming, and some fun. Both of those things are what make life worth living. What was this whole outing about if it wasn’t an impulse?” Eric didn’t respond, just shaking his head and looking out to the snow covered village.

“I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent, much less both of them.” Clark said slowly. “But I do know what it’s like to live with people who demand a certain image. You’ve met my parents, you know.” Clark stood up and shouldered Eric so that he looked at them.

“And he was wrong.” Clark said. Eric shook his head and pushed Clark back toward the carriage.