Seraiah knew she had to do it. She’d put off not knowing for long enough, and she knew she would regret it if she left tomorrow without having ever gone.

“It’s getting dark out there,” Kai said as she reached for the door. “Do you want someone to go with you?”

She paused and turned back. “No, I’ll be all right on my own.” She knew it wasn’t really the dark that concerned him. They’d all seen how she’d reacted to finding Ratha empty.

This would be different, though. She’d had time to prepare.

A chair scraped across the floor. “I’m going with you,” Sterling announced. “I would like to say goodbye.” Her voice wobbled a little on the word goodbye.

Seraiah tried to school her expression, but she was sure her surprise still slipped through. Sterling hadn’t shown any desire to revisit their life here in Ratha. If anything, Seraiah had the impression Sterling had only agreed to come at all to appease her—like it was a debt she owed Seraiah for having rescued her.

“Grab your cloak then,” she said.

Sterling ran for the stairs, leaving Seraiah and Kai alone.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

He could have been talking about her choice to visit her old home or leaving Ratha altogether.

“Yes,” she said. “It needs to be done.” Both the visit and leaving Ratha were necessary, no matter if she liked it or not.

Kai studied her for a moment before rising from the table. “I’ll see to preparations then,” he said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Sterling returned moments later, properly outfitted for the winter weather.

Seraiah lifted a lantern from the hook beside the door and then the two sisters set off.

It wasn’t a long walk to their old home, but by the time they arrived, the sun had disappeared from the sky. The lantern threw shadows over the undisturbed snow, and Seraiah’s feet dragged to a stop.

All the conviction she’d felt inside the inn about this being a good idea had suddenly vanished, and her evening meal churned uncomfortably in her stomach as she stared at the familiar face of their home.

Sterling seemed to have no such concerns because she marched right up to the front door. “Coming?” she called over her shoulder.

Seraiah took a deep breath and forced her feet to move, suddenly glad her sister had wanted to come. Without Sterling, she might have turned away and gone straight back to the inn without ever having looked.

The smell as she stepped over the threshold, a blend of the woods Papa used for his work, was the same as it had always been—if perhaps a bit musty from being closed up for however long. A sense of calm settled over her as she breathed it in.

She held the lantern aloft, revealing the main room that functioned as both a kitchen and dining area. A pile of ashes lay on the hearth, but Seraiah found the pot hanging above to be empty.

She ran a finger around the inside. Clean.

“I’ll be in our room,” Sterling said, disappearing through the doorway.

Seraiah continued poking around the kitchen. The small pantry held its usual collection of food and herbs, which she thought was promising. Food was a sign of life.

Once she finished inspecting everything in the kitchen, she crossed the room, dragging her fingers along the scarred table where they ate their meals. There were no dishes left about, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

She passed through the doorway where Sterling had gone, but instead of taking a left into their room, she turned right toward Papa’s. He usually kept the door shut, but now it was halfway open. Seraiah pushed it the rest of the way and stepped inside.

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The spill of lantern light illuminated a rumpled, unmade bed, and a shirt was tossed over the wooden footboard. On the other side, the wardrobe doors were thrown wide. It didn’t look like a sick room to her eyes, but she supposed she couldn’t be sure. She’d hoped to find a plate with half eaten food or some clear sign that he’d been interrupted in the middle of what he was doing.

Then again, if he’d been at the market, she would find no sign here. Papa didn’t come home for the midday meal but ate at his stall. The market was another place she’d avoided visiting and if any of the others had gone; they hadn’t told her about it.

Seraiah was backing out of the room when something glinted in the lantern light. When she looked closer, she discovered it was a knife Papa used for whittling—one of his favorites.

She lifted it from its resting place. It fit easily in her hand; the handle worn smooth from use.

An object that was precious to the subject.

Perhaps this would count.

Seraiah slipped the knife into its leather case and dropped it in the pocket of her cloak before going to find Sterling.

She found her sister perched on the edge of her bed in their shared room. From what she could remember, the room looked exactly the way she had left it, as though Papa had shut the door and forgotten all about them.

Or maybe he couldn’t bear to look at it because it brought too much pain. The same way she hadn’t wanted to return to the house, she decided.

Seraiah set the lantern on the small table between the two beds and took a seat across from Sterling. Her sister’s hands were empty, as was her gaze as she stared at some point on the wall. She appeared lost in her memories.

“Everything all right?” Seraiah asked softly.

Sterling dragged her storm gray eyes away from the wall and met her gaze.

“Did you know Mama and Papa never married?”

Seraiah stared at her, not sure she’d heard correctly.

“I suppose I should say Jensira and your father,” Sterling went on. “It feels strange to call them anything else now, since I know they aren’t related to me.”

“I—what?” Seraiah asked, recovering her voice. “How do you know that? Of course they were married, there was a celebration and—”

The more she thought about it, Seraiah realized she couldn’t recall a wedding, but she’d been very young, and Sterling was a baby, so how would she even know?

“I asked Jensira once.” Sterling’s gaze went back to some point on the wall behind Seraiah. “I wanted her to braid daisies into my hair and make me a flower crown. I think I said something about how I would wear the flowers on my wedding day. We had just attended one of our neighbor’s daughter’s weddings—I can’t even recall her name now—but I was enamored with the idea of planning what my own wedding day would look like.”

Seraiah nodded. “I remember that. It was Elwisia’s wedding. It was the last spring we saw.”

“That’s the one. Well, while Ma—Jensira,” she quickly corrected herself, “was braiding my hair, I asked her about what she wore on her wedding day and if she had flowers in her hair. She told me she’s never been married.”

“But she always made it seem like she was. She never denied it when anyone assumed.”

“I know, and the more I think about it, I don’t think she ever meant to tell me either. She must have been distracted, and it slipped out. She immediately told me not to tell anyone because they wouldn’t like it. They would say bad things about us. I’d kind of forgotten about it,” Sterling added, “but it means we aren’t sisters by blood or by marriage. We aren’t really sisters at all—only two girls who grew up in the same house.”

“Don’t say that,” Seraiah hissed.

Sterling shrugged. “But it’s true. Sometimes, it almost feels like I don’t have any family. I mean, I know Kai is technically my brother, but it doesn’t feel like it. We may look similar, but that doesn’t mean anything. We hardly know each other. Yet I know you better than anyone, but we have no true family connection.”

Seraiah reached across the space between the beds and picked up Sterling’s hand. Her fingers were like ice. “Is that what’s been bothering you lately?” she asked gently. “Why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Sterling sighed, looking down at their clasped hands. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to. I’ve just had a lot of thinking to do. There’s a lot to—there’s a lot to sort out and process.”

Seraiah waited to see if Sterling would say anything more. When she didn’t, Seraiah said, “You know you can always come to me about anything. I promise I’ll listen no matter what the problem is because sometimes even just talking to someone can help.”

Sterling gave her hand a squeeze. “And you would tell me about your problems too, right?”

Seraiah didn’t miss the way Sterling’s eyes flicked to her neck where the black mark was hidden beneath her hair and cloak. She didn’t have much to say about the mark, but there was something else. Seraiah bit her lip, thinking about what the journal had said—about the madness that awaited her if she kept using her visions.

She couldn’t burden Sterling with that, not now.

“Of course,” she said after a moment, rising to her feet. Her voice sounded too bright even to her own ears. “Did you find anything you wanted to take? It’s growing late, and we should get back before Kai comes looking for us.”

Sterling, thankfully, didn’t push.

The two of them gathered what little possessions they had left behind—old clothes, mostly—and said one final goodbye to their former home.

I’ll be back again, Seraiah thought as she closed the front door behind her, and I’ll bring everyone with me. I promise.