“Okay. We can go.”
* * *
SENNA
The engine purrsas the SUV rolls onto the snaking road.
Pine trees heavy with snow line the path, wisps of fog clinging to their branches, filtering the grayish light.
Log homes sit on both sides of the road, lit windows casting a faint glow over the ground.
“Do people live here all year round?” he asks, looking out the side window.
“Most of them are vacation homes, but some people do live here all year round.”
I shift my gaze to the scenery outside.
The wind plays with the snow flurries, spinning them before they touch the ground.
“I miss this kind of weather,” I say, my eyes trained on the beautiful surroundings. “This is the kind of winter I’ve always liked. Perhaps because it comes with silence, snow, and cold, long nights when it’s warm inside and time stands still.”
My eyes roam over the woods before I continue.
“Years back, when I was a kid, I came up with this little story. It was about a girl who walked out of her parents’ home one day and headed to the market with her mother. Once she got there, she quickly got distracted by the sounds and colors of the place, the people’s voices, and the smell of the food. As her mom started talking with a merchant, she took a few steps away from her and, spellbound, let her gaze rove over the sparkling trinkets, her nostrils filling with the smell of chocolate. The live music drifting through the air lured her farther away, and soon, she lost her sense of time and space. And before she knew it, the day drew to an end, and the evening set in. The place was cleared of customers, and the merchants started packing their things as they got ready to leave. She asked the people around if they had seen her mother, but no one could help her. Soon, the market closed its doors, and she hit the streets alone. Lost and hungry, thirsty and desperate, she wandered until she met a man. He was tall, dark-haired, and wore a black wool cloak. He seemed like a good man, but she was too young to tell the difference. He asked her what she was looking for. She told him she’d gotten lost and needed to find her mother. He promised to take her home, and she believed him. But he never did. Not to her home anyway. Once he had her at his place, he tried to convince her his house was her home. She knew he was lying to her, so one night, after they had dinner, she snuck out of his house and ran away. She didn’t have a plan, so she found herself back on the streets, wandering again. It was the middle of the night, and there was no one in sight. Discouraged, she hid behind a tree and hugged herself, murmuring a quiet prayer. She didn’t know much about prayers or who could help her, in fact, so she was praying to the dark night and the sparkling moon, to the whispering wind and the mysterious silence. She was praying to find a home. Any home. A safe place, so she could never get lost again...”
The whistling of the wind and the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers sweeping the glass break into the silence.
“Did she find it?” he asks after a while, giving me a side-eyed glance.
“The little girl... Did she find her safe place?” he asks, searching my eyes.
Smiling, I turn my gaze back to the window.
“Yes, she did,” I murmur, staring vacantly into the darkness. “It was a nice home, hidden in the forest, draped in the snow in the winter, washed in the sunlight in the summer, wrapped in the sound of a trickling creek in the spring and the smoke of burning leaves in the fall. A place where the night, the moon, the wind, and the silence were her neighbors. A place surrounded by an invisible wall that kept her safe from prying eyes, so no one could see her, find her and lose her again.”
His stare burns into my face.
“Anyway... That is our place,” I say in a different voice, motioning to a log home wrapped in darkness.
He pulls the car to a stop, turns off the engine, and kills the lights.
The silence and the moaning wind surround us as the silver moonlight pours into the forest, making everything look surreal.
10
SENNA
Soft snow dustsmy boots with every step on the narrow path leading to the chalet. I climb the stairs, unlock the wooden door, push it open and enter the house.
I turn on the lights.
A warm glow rolls over the walls, illuminating the cozy kitchen and the spacious living room. A hallway makes the transition to the bedrooms and the bathrooms.
It’s warm inside and smells like food.
Ceiling-height windows let in a beautiful view––snow-capped trees and mountain peaks in the background.
Jaden’s steps echo behind me.