Everleigh

  I locked them up so they would be safe for now,

  from the fight, the fire, the fallout.

  I kept them above ground

  so they could be found,

  so I could say I did my part.

  I’d lure the Hollow there, to show them what I’d done,

  and then I would end them all.

  I thought the fox would understand I had a plan.

  I didn’t know about The Florist,

  and I didn’t know The Widow was dead.

  Deeper and deeper,

  in over my head.

  It was time—

  he would know what to do.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Sebastian always did.

  I watched her drink her soup.

  We all agree she snored, but she didn’t slurp.

  I wished she would.

  “I need you to find my father,” I said.

  “Are you sure about that, lass? I met mine recently and it was underwhelming.”

  If only she knew,

  the things The Other Angry One has seen,

  has done,

  has had to live with.

  Father and daughter were but one step away from the other.

  But still I insisted.

  “Who’s your father?” she asked.

  “Sebastian Vonsinfonie.”

  The Angry One snorted without the giggle. “Sebastian Vonsinfonie died around a million years ago.”

  “No,” I said. “I’d know if he were dead.”

  A glance, a gaze across the table that said, “I understand.”

  She understood because she felt that way about the fox.

  The fox, my only friend.

  What have I done?

  She said she would help, but she needed the others.

  But still the Hollow were coming for me, and I was alone.

  What have I done?

  A mistake,

  a mistake,

  I made a mistake.

  No, I changed my mind.

  There wasn’t time to wait for my father’s advice.

  But if I trusted her now, would she trust me then?

  “I’ll take you to your friends,” I said.

  But when we got there,

  they were gone.