“Who are they?”

“Where did they come from?”

There was a strange crowd, not gathered together like an assembly, but hidden away at the edges of the buildings, or standing in small groups around the perimeter of the yard.

“That’s Old Man Moses, isn’t it? Why would he have them?”

“You don’t think—”

“No.”

I’d lost track of Dominie. It didn’t matter. I wandered from one building to another, one group to another. None of the adults bothered looking at me, even if I brushed their skirts or breeches.

Even I barely noticed. All I cared about was getting a better look at the figures in the middle of the yard.

The two small boys were nothing but a collection of filthy clothes, pale skin, and skinny limbs. The area around them was empty. Even the native who’d brought them in didn’t seem to want to get too close. He stood a few yards to the side, talking to one of the elders.

Old Man Moses.

A shiver worked its way through my body.

Dominie had said Old Man Moses was a friend. Dominie had said that he was kind and funny…

But all I saw was a tall man, as broad and sturdy as the biggest tree. His face was smooth, wide, and dark. His hair was black and long. He wore a shirt he might have traded from us, but the pants were strange. Despite the painful cold, he didn’t wear a jacket.

“Anna.”

I jumped. Dominie put his hand on my shoulder to settle me.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I shook my head.

We both turned back to the yard.

“Is he a madman?” a voice whispered.

Dominie turned. “He’s not mad! Moses is a good man.”

The person he rebuked fell silent. Dominie had meant for only them to hear, but his voice had carried.

The elder standing next to Moses looked up. “Dominie! Your help, please?”

Dominie put his hand on my head. “Stay here, Anna.”

Neither Anna nor I thought much of that instruction. When Dominie stepped out from the crowd, I dogged his footsteps. He glanced back at me when he heard my shoes crunching over the frozen mud and snow. He looked annoyed, but then he sighed and went on.

As we passed the two boys, the oldest raised his sunken eyes to look at me.

My emotions surged, and my realization echoed through Anna’s oblivious head: That’s Jacob.

The smaller boy sank back on his heels and grabbed his brother’s leg for support.

Jacob’s eyes followed me the whole way across the yard. I watched him watching me, and it wasn’t until Dominie spoke that I was able to pull my attention away.

“Good evening, Moses.”

“Dominie.”

“What’s going on? Who are the boys?”

The elder let out a loud sigh and put a hand to his forehead. “It’s pretty ugly, Dominie. If I’m understanding right, Moses says they’re orphans from the east.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“How far east?”

“He says he crossed the river.”

“The river?” Dominie glanced over his shoulder at the two boys. “That’s a long trip in this weather. Why didn’t he stop at one of the other settlements?”

“He says he tried.”

Dominie turned to Moses. “What happened?”

Moses’s voice rolled out, deep and simple. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Their parents were eaten.”

“By what?”

“A person.”

Dominie and the elder stared.

Moses pointed to his mouth and opened and closed it several times. His large white teeth made gruesome clicks.

Dominie moved so his body blocked the crowd’s view of Moses. “Who?”

Moses shrugged. “That’s why it’s dangerous.”

The elder said, “Surely, you’re not saying the boys—”

But Moses was already shaking his head. “The boys didn’t do it. I found them, so I will take them north and leave them. May we stay the night? Somewhere warm?”

“Where are you going to leave them?” I demanded.

Old Man Moses looked down from his impressive height. “Hello, Little Anna.”

“Where are you going to leave them?” I repeated.

“Miss Anna,” the elder chided.

But Dominie spoke up: “It’s a fair question.”

Moses looked at Dominie with his dark, solemn eyes. “I warned you it would be a hard winter. I’ve told you about what happens when it stays too cold and too dark. Do you want me to answer that question?”

“Wherever you’re going, they won’t make it,” I said. “Look at them!”

Moses didn’t turn his head, but Dominie and the elder did. Jacob was watching us through his eyelashes. His feverish pink lips stood out against his white face. The only way to know Jan was alive was by how he was clutching his brother’s leg.

“Do you want them to die?” I asked.

“No one wants them to die, Anna,” Dominie said. “None of us like this.”

I raised my voice. “Then who’s going to take them in?”

The elder and Dominie glanced at each other. Neither spoke. I looked from them to the stony crowd around us. Only Jacob would look at me. Everyone else turned their face away.

Angry tears chilled the edges of my eyes. I turned to the elder.

“We’ll take them.”

The elder said, “Miss Anna, it is not your place—”

“Their parents are dead. They’re sad, tired, and cold, and no one will look at me!”

“Miss Anna, calm down.”

“You can’t tell fire to be calm,” Moses said.

“I’m not a fire!”

Dominie said, “Anna.”

His quiet word was all it took. My shoulders curled, and I stepped closer to him.

The elder said, “You shouldn’t let the child speak for you.”

“Why not? She does it so much better than I do. Anna and I would be glad to take in those two boys, but I’m afraid I only kept enough in my larder for myself and Anna. Is there a chance the town could see its way to helping?”

The elder nodded. “I can talk to Mr. Alst. It’ll be tight, but we should have enough set by.”

“Dominie—”

“It’s all right, Moses…”

The quiet whispers of the adults faded as I walked back to the two boys.

“Hello,” I said, suddenly nervous.

“Hello,” Jacob said.

His voice was as tenuous as when I’d first met his ghost.

“You’ll like Dominie. He’s nice.”

Jacob stared at me with a numb expression.

I took off my cape and tried not to gasp when the wind blasted through my clothes. I squatted down so I could throw the cape over Jan. He didn’t look up, but his small white fist closed over the edge of the cape. His fingers flexed, but he was too weak to pull it closer.

“Come on,” I said. “We should get you inside somewhere.”

Jacob said, “We have to stay with him.”

I glanced behind me. “You mean Moses?”

“He wouldn’t tell us his name.”

“Do you want to stay with him?”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

I hesitated. “But…we’re taking you in. You’re going to stay with us.”

Jan finally moved. He looked up at me.

“You’re going to keep us?” Jacob asked.

“Yes.”

Jan’s small mouth opened to let out a long cry. The noise carried all the pain a soul could contain. It was wounding to hear.

Two hearts: mine, that wanted so much to cry with him, and Anna’s, scared and confused.

With tears running down his cold cheeks, Jacob grabbed onto his brother and alternately tried to comfort and chastise him. It didn’t help. The cry grew weaker on its own.

“He’s not sad,” Jacob said.

Both my hearts rebelled at this lie.

“He’s not sad,” Jacob insisted. “Thank you. We want to stay. Please let us stay. We’re not sad. It’s just…they wouldn’t keep us.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Anyone. All of them. They all turned away. No one would keep us.”

I put my small arms over both boys. “I’ll keep you.”

[https://i.imgur.com/f011ZNa.jpg]

When I woke up, the children were standing by the side of my bed, watching me.

“You were crying,” Jacob said.

I wiped my face and laughed. “Sorry. I have leaky eyes. Did I wake you up?”

“A little,” Anna admitted.

Of course.

By then I knew why Anna called it resting—it was only a shallow imitation of real sleep. I couldn’t roll over without waking them up.

I picked up my phone and glanced at the time. With a groan, I put it back on my nightstand. No matter how familiar I was with it, three in the morning always felt like a cursed hour to me.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s see if we can get some more rest.”