It was bitterly cold, the likes of which I’d never felt. The wind whipped against the little bit of exposed skin left on my face, and I silently cursed my fair skin again but for a whole new reason. I now knew the effects of windburn on pale skin. Not pretty.
On the other hand, I was beginning to blend in more with the locals in the quaint little town of Balloch. I’d been here for almost a month after making my way northeast following my escape from the “drillers” whom I’d thought were my friends.
I thought they were more than my friends. I thought they loved me. What a damned fool I was.
Despite being in the middle of nowhere, Christmas was apparent everywhere in the tiny spot. The townsfolk had taken great pride in decorating fence posts along the endlessly snowy fields with ribbons and wreaths.
Even in my desolation, I had to admit there was an inspiring beauty everywhere. When I was a child, I think that was exactly how I pictured Santa’s village.
I walked up the icy path leading away from Mr. McCally’s small farm and into the village itself. I’d been very fortunate to have landed there. It wasn’t just because the townsfolk had welcomed Blanche Arbor into their midst with very little question, offering my new persona a job as a housekeeper in their various farms. It was also because Balloch boasted a Western Union.
That was why I’d chosen to stay there.
Blanche Arbor was the ID I’d stolen from a woman who had vaguely resembled me as I escaped Inverness. The only person who knew who I’d become was Alex, and that was only because I’d needed her to send me money.
“I’m coming to you,” Alex told me, calling my phone only from her own burner.
“Uh no,” I insisted. “They could be watching you. That’s why you’re calling me on an untraceable phone, remember?”
“I hate this!” Alex wailed. “I need to see you, Sash. You can’t keep living like this!”
“It’ll be over soon,” I promised, but of course, I was lying to her. If anything, this was just beginning.
At least I didn’t have to ask her for money anymore, not when I was making my own.
From biochemist to housemaid.
In all fairness, I didn’t think of myself as the same person anymore. I was trying my best to assimilate, not only for my own safety but also that I could forget about a life I could never return to.
“What are you telling my mom?” I wanted to know.
“Ariel thinks you’re on a top-secret mission to Russia,” Alex muttered. “Trust me, I don’t think she could be anymore freaked out if I told her the truth.”
“You’re not telling her anything,” I insisted, and she sighed.
“I’m not going to say anything to her,” she promised. “But I wish you could come home.”
“This is my home now,” I told her. “Maybe one day you can come to visit.”
I was thinking about the tears in Alex’s voice as I ventured into the town through Barn Church Road and then turned left on Culloden.
The primary school was letting out, and I couldn’t help but pause to watch the children scampering down Inverness toward the main road, screeching with delight as they plowed into one another.
I realized what they were so happy about—it was the start of Christmas break.
A sad smile touched my lips, and I continued toward the Kinney’s who had rented me a room in their attic. It was almost like an apartment, with its own bathroom, and I found it insufferably lonely.
The Kinneys traveled a fair bit for work, both of them freelance something or the other from the city which had given up the pain of pavement for the comfort of the country. They were happy to have someone to watch their demon cat when they were gone.
I didn’t mind. After living with seven men, I was glad to have the company.
You never lived with seven men, I chided myself. You barely stayed with them.
And yet, they had changed me in ways I could never explain.
I didn’t want to think about them, none of them. Their silence spoke volumes to me. When I’d been on the road for those first two weeks, I’d been looking over my shoulder constantly, not because I expected someone to come chasing after me but because I’d hoped to see one of their faces coming to bring me back.
When they didn’t, I realized that they were probably glad I’d left. I was one less thing for them to worry about now.
Letting myself into the house, I paused to remove my boots and coat before ambling into the living room. The Kinneys were in Jamaica over the holidays, but they had given me permission to pull out their old “yule” tree and decorate it. I’d barely gotten started the night before.