There is snow.

Baekhyun bundles up warmly before he even attempts to cajole his mother into letting him go out to town to see the Christmas lights. He even wears the horrible green-and-red striped woolen scarf that Chanyeol had knitted him in arts class, and that seems to work on his parents, judging by the amused looks on their faces when he bounces excitedly in a scarf wrapped thrice around his face.

At the age of nine, Baekhyun is a precocious little child, preferring the comfort of his home and family library to the great outdoors, but he cannot resist winter. It seems to run in the family, his mum tells him one snow-stormy afternoon over mugs of steaming hot cocoa; she remembers herself and her own siblings, giddy over snowflakes that melted on the tongue and fresh blasts of cold air the second they stepped out of the house.

Baekhyun knows that winter is special, and he wants to make the most out of it.

So he trails happily to the town square, where the beautiful Christmas tree is set up every year, with lights surrounding the area. It’s a gorgeous sight, and he’s not the only one who comes out to see it.

He meets up with Chanyeol, who snorts good-naturedly at his gifted scarf seemingly knotted around Baekhyun’s small figure, and they run off to beg a couple of sweets from the local candy store owner.

It’s a little later that Baekhyun wanders off from the town centre, out toward the forest on the edge of town. There’s a small clearing by the lake that Baekhyun loves visiting, having discovered it on one of his exploration days a year ago. It’s a thirty minute hike from town, but he knows he can make it back in time for dinner.

Today, the clearing is draped in a fluffy blanket of snow. The trees and rocks and bulging bits of land are all covered by a layer of white, and it lends an almost magical aura to the place. Baekhyun can’t help but let out a loud breath in awe.

He trudges across the clearing to look across the lake, frozen over and shining with the cold sun’s reflection in the sky. Only when he’s at the edge, peering at the stillness of the lake, does he feel the presence of another person.

He’s not sure what makes him think so, or what makes him look up in the first place, but he turns around quickly, and there are two young boys, looking to be around his age, staring straight at him from behind a couple of trees.

Baekhyun stands up straight, and waves a mittened hand. “Hello. Didn’t know anyone else came here other than me.”

The looks on the boys’ faces are not what Baekhyun expected, all shock and surprise. One of them speaks, a low voice that floats through the clearing, “He can see us.”

“Maybe he’s one of us,” says the other, and he glances at Baekhyun again, who gazes back intently. “But why is he out here then?”

“We should take him to see her,” murmurs the first one, and he looks at Baekhyun. “She’ll be able to tell if he really does have it.”

“Sorry,” interrupts Baekhyun, “but what are you guys talking about? Are you guys from the next town or something?”

The boys glance back up, and after a pause or so, they slide out from behind the trees. “I’m Kyungsoo,” the first boy says quietly, and he has the strangest gaze Baekhyun has ever seen on a kid his age. Piercing. As if he was looking into Baekhyun’s soul.

“Hi,” says the other one, waving cheerfully. He’s got a wide grin, and Baekhyun finds himself grinning back at the boy’s exuberance. “I’m Jongdae. What’s your name?”

“I’m Baekhyun.” He doesn’t know whether to offer his hand in greeting. “Uh.” Or what to say after that.

Kyungsoo’s lips quirk up in a smile. “You don’t know, do you?”

“About what?” Baekhyun glances around quickly. “Does the clearing belong to someone? Have I been trespassing the whole time? Are you guys new to town? Are you brothers? Should I know you? Are you in my school or something? I’ve never seen you before—“

“Halt, motor-mouth,” says Jongdae, and he laughs, a tinkling sound that fills the air and makes Baekhyun feel strangely fluttery inside his chest. “We’re not from around here.”

“Well, I can tell, I guess…” starts Baekhyun, but Kyungsoo shakes his head, still smiling that small smile.

“We live in the forest.” Kyungsoo adds quietly, “we’re Magic folk.”

“Hey!” exclaims Jongdae. “I wanted to tell him!”

Baekhyun stares at them. “Magic folk? There’s no such thing. Are you trying to play a prank on me or something, because I don’t like pranks.”

“Of course there are Magic folk,” huffs Jongdae, “we’re right in front of you, aren’t we? Granted, we’re still a bit young, but soon we’ll be real Magic folk. Right now, we’re just sprogs.”

Baekhyun sniffles. “You guys are weird.” He’s not too sure what to make of these two, but his parents always warned him of strange people, and even though these two are his age, one can never be too safe. “I think I better go home.” He turns to go, before a call makes him turn around.

Kyungsoo’s holding his hand out, and he says serenely, “Let us show you, Baekhyun.”

And he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know what makes him move a few steps back and take Kyungsoo’s hand hesitantly. Maybe it’s the way Kyungsoo says his name, all quiet like the winter breeze, or the way Jongdae’s eyes bore into him with the same glint he caught on the surface of the lake. Or maybe it’s his own curiosity, insatiable and unstoppable.

They lead him into the forest, past trees and trees and trees and Baekhyun has a headache trying to figure out which direction they’re even heading in. Finally, they stop, and it seems like every other spot they’ve passed on the way here.

Baekhyun voices this thought, and Jongdae says it’s magic. But he won’t believe it till he sees it, and when an old woman walks out from the trunk of the tree in front of them, he gapes. How in the world had that just happened? He’s sure a tree is completely solid. But how? Baekhyun gapes more.

She gives them both strong stares, ignoring Baekhyun’s stupefied look, and says sternly, “You boys do not know what you have brought upon yourselves.”

“Oh, please Elder, please tell us,” says Jongdae with an imploring expression. “He could see us out in the clearing! He must be Magic like we are. We felt something when we were with him, didn’t we, Kyungsoo?”

The old woman’s face flashes briefly with what seems like surprise, just for a second, but then it’s gone.

She fixes her glance on Baekhyun, who shrinks under her scrutiny, and she states gruffly, “He might. It is possible. There have been cases of those who develop their powers later in life.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” says Baekhyun meekly, “but what do you mean I might have Magic? I can’t do anything.”

“Not yet.” The old woman waves her hand towards their surroundings. “The Magic folk have occupied these parts for a very long time. And it is when we sense that there are children born with it, we take them, and give them the right environment to grow up in.”

Baekhyun’s mouth falls open. “But—but, that’s stealing! You steal kids?” He glances at Kyungsoo and Jongdae, who are silent, and he continues, “So they stole the both of you too?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” says the old woman, “because they have accepted who they are, and they know there is much more than what they had with their original caregivers.” She motions dismissively towards them. “Now, take the boy and leave. He may come back in time, if he shows promise.” As she turns her back on them, Baekhyun can distantly hear her say, “How young, the Magic binds.”

“I—but, hold on,” starts Baekhyun, his mind whirring with confusion and ideas and light bulbs clicking on and off, but Kyungsoo and Jongdae are already leading him back out of the forest. He doesn’t even realise when they’ve reached the clearing, but suddenly the trees are out of the way, and he blinks at his surroundings.

“So,” says Baekhyun, turning back to the two boys, “she said I can come back?”

“But only if you are truly one of us,” says Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun frowns; the boy’s voice has become all misty and strange. “Look for us, Baekhyun.”

Jongdae smiles, and it doesn’t reach his eyes like before. “We’ll keep looking for you, don’t worry.”

And Baekhyun takes a step forward, but shrieks when Jongdae explodes into a flurry of blue butterflies that fly away, over the lake. Baekhyun nearly falls backwards, breathing hard, staring at the spot where Jongdae was, and he glances back up at Kyungsoo, whose form is becoming more translucent by the second. Baekhyun can guess what will happen to him, and he exclaims, “You guys are leaving?”

“We’ll always be here.” And Kyungsoo grins this time, and it makes Baekhyun feel so full that it threatens to spill over in tears, and he doesn’t even know why. “We’ll wait for you.”

And then he’s gone, and Baekhyun is left with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, and wet snow soaking his jacket.

The second he returns home, he regales his siblings with his tale, eyes wide and still in wonder over the strange and amazing things he’d seen and heard, but none of them believe him. No matter how hard Baekhyun insists Kyungsoo and Jongdae are real, his mum just smile in amusement at him, and offer him more marshmallows for his cocoa.

“There’s no such thing as magic!” says his older sister by three years, and Baekhyun shoots back, yes there is! And that she’s just jealous that he has Magic and she doesn’t.

His mother ends up sitting by his bedside that night, telling him that he shouldn’t fight with his siblings over something so small, but it’s not small to Baekhyun! It’s bigger than himself, and all of them, and it’s wonderful and strange and he wants to know more about it.

That night, he dreams of a laugh like the call of soaring birds, and a voice with the soothing rush of water like the brook by the cottage.

-

Eventually, Baekhyun grows out of the fairytale books and fantasies. He begins to take an interest in music and history, and finding out ways to get taller, and things that growing boys usually like (sports, dumb jokes, girls). He stops visiting the clearing in hopes that he’ll encounter the two boys again, and decides to focus on reality.

He knows his mother is secretly relieved that he’s stopped talking about Magic. It’s been three years since the day, and he hasn’t forgotten about it entirely, though deep inside, he hopes that there really are powers within him. He hopes that his childhood fantasy will come true, but the hopeful wish is buried in a corner of his mind and locked away with every winter passing.

Though, sometimes Baekhyun feels, just feels, like there’s someone watching him. Someone in the corner of his eye, in his peripheral, just standing there, much like a shadow, but every time he turns his head it’s gone. No matter how quickly he looks.

Or maybe sometimes, when he’s not paying attention to his surroundings, a cold trickle of air brushes the nape of his neck, much like cold fingers against his skin, and he’s jolted back to the real world.

It must be his mind playing tricks on him, he surmises, but he still dreams, though. They started with the laughing, and the soft voice.

When he turns fourteen, the laugh comes with a grin, and the voice with a face, and when Baekhyun wakes, the ceiling of his room greeting him in his blurry vision, he’s managed to put together two and two. He’s been dreaming of Kyungsoo and Jongdae. But they’re not real, his mind supplies helpfully, not real, not real, not real. Like your mum said, like your siblings said, like your friends said. Not real.

When he turns sixteen, he starts seeing reflections of them in mirrors and in crowds and in windows of shops. He must be going mad, he thinks, and Baekhyun is determined to keep them out of his life. How could a single day, almost seven years ago, affect him this much?

But he still dreams, and feels, and sees, and hears them, especially during winter time, when the days are cold and the nights are colder.

When Baekhyun is seventeen, he dreams of hands reaching and the slow burn of skin on skin and a soft smile that chills him to the bone and a laugh that warms him down to his heart, and a familiar voice, whispering, murmuring, Baekhyun, and he takes their hands, pulling them closer, hands and fingers and limbs entangled and so much want and so much need, and Baekhyun just—

He wakes suddenly, eyes wide, fingers curled painfully into his bed sheets. “Not real,” he croaks, “not real,” but his voice cracks on the last word, and he turns onto his side, pressing his face into his pillow. He’s going insane. Oh god, he’s really losing it.

It gets worse when he turns eighteen.

-

“So then, she turns to him, and slaps him! Just like that.” Chanyeol stops, and pokes Baekhyun in the middle of his forehead. “Hey. Are you even awake?”

Baekhyun glances up at him, having been caught in the sight of a reflection again, and smiles apologetically. “Sorry, man. Not—not feeling so well, I guess,” he fibs, and Chanyeol considers him for a couple of moments, before dismissing it.

They’re in the corner of the school courtyard for break, and Chanyeol has been complaining about the school making them attend class even though snow’s already fallen heavy on the town. Baekhyun doesn’t mind though, he loves snow, as he has since he was young, but he nods along anyway.

Not many people are outside though; most are huddled in the cafeteria, trying to garner body heat he supposes, since the school’s heating system is down today, but Baekhyun and Chanyeol bring mason jars with large candles in them, and set them up in around them in the snow as they have lunch.

“Oh, hey, hold up for a second,” says the taller boy, catching the eye of a passing student. “I have e to go ask Kris about our science project for a bit, be right back.”

Baekhyun waves him off, grinning, and settles for contentedly watching the flickering flames of the candles before him.

One of the candles is abruptly put out by the wind, and without thinking, Baekhyun blows absentmindedly in the direction of the candle.

A small flame jumps onto the wick, and Baekhyun falls backwards in shock.

“Not real,” he whispers, but then he glances around quickly, to make sure no one’s watching, and he pinches another one of the candles in between snow covered fingers, making sure it’s completely extinguished, before leaning forward to blow at it.

It lights up.

Baekhyun trembles. “Not real,” he says again, but this time he knows it’s a lie.

-

That night, he dreams of fire, and burning touches, and heated whispers, and Jongdae presses their lips together, cold from the winter wind and warm from the heat in his body that he now knows exists, and Kyungsoo slots their fingers together, and whispers, Baek—

He wakes up with a gasp, and shakily presses the tips of his fingers to his mouth. It felt so real.

“No,” he says, but the shadows in the corners of his room dance to the tune of yes.

-

He learns to do more than relight candles.

Baekhyun learns to create fire in the palm of his hand, learns to melt the candles and to generate just enough warmth to mold them back together. He learns that it’s especially great for keeping drinks hot, and he learns that nobody can find out that he can do these things.

It comes as a semi-surprise one day, when he discovers that his hands can create light, and not just fire.

And it’s in that moment that his mum walks into the room, and drops the mug she’s carrying. It shatters into a million pieces, much like Baekhyun’s heart the second he sees her shock-stricken face.

Baekhyun stares at her from his bed, a horrified look on his face, and he snaps his fingers shut into a first, dissipating the light emanating from his palm. “Mum…”

“Baekhyun,” she starts, but the words don’t come out. She stares at him, and walks out of his room.

Immediately he launches himself after her, calling, “Mum! Wait! I can explain—“

He follows her to a stop in the kitchen, and there she leans heavily against the sink, as Baekhyun remains silent. Finally, she says, “Is this…”

“Magic,” says Baekhyun quietly, and he sees her disbelieving glance. “I can do other things. Here.”

He waves a hand toward the counter, and the candles immediately flicker with dainty flames, dancing in the dimly-lit room. His mum stares at the candles with fascination, but then a strange look passes over her face, and she glances back at Baekhyun. “How?”

“They said I was born with it,” says Baekhyun, taking a step forward, but he stops when his mother takes a step back. “The boys from the clearing.”

“But… you were just pretending, weren’t you? You were just playing. Baekhyun, please.” His mum looks as if she doesn’t know what to do, and Baekhyun doesn’t blame her. He wouldn’t know what to do in this situation either. “Baekhyun. “

“Just… don’t tell anyone, mum,” he says softly, “please. They can’t find out. Just look at—“ He stops himself there, but both of them know he wanted to say just look at how you reacted to it.

“I won’t,” she says, recovering slightly. She hesitates, but then surges forward to wrap him in a tight hug. “No matter what, I still love you, okay?”

“Thanks, mum,” he whispers, arms curling around her, but he can feel her stiffen slightly, and he pulls away, not really wanting to look at her expression right now. “I… should go do some homework.”

He leaves before she can say anything, and doesn’t notice the wide eyes silently observing him from behind an almost-closed door.

-

He is nineteen, and now, everyone knows what he can do.

The rumours had spread, right from the mouth of his younger sister (“How could you?” demands Baekhyun, and he winces when he sees her pale in fear, “oh, God, no, I wouldn’t hurt you over that, don’t think that, please, you know I wouldn’t.”) and now, even as he walks along the street on the way to the park with Chanyeol, there are stares coming from every store, from every window, from everyone he’s ever known and never known.

He is glad, though, that the one person who still treats him normally is the one person he has the most contact with on a weekly basis.

Chanyeol says in a low voice, “You know, you could’ve told me earlier about your super powers. I would’ve been totally cool with it, man.”

“I was scared, okay?” snaps Baekhyun, and he regrets it immediately. “I’m sorry. I just… they’re not super powers. It’s Magic. And I don’t know what to do, with everyone judging me like this. Not like they’ve ever seen me do anything.”

“Magic,” repeats Chanyeol, “well, if you’ve got some of that now, mind making it a bit warmer?”

“Idiot,” mutters Baekhyun, but he guesses there’s no harm in it, since everyone knows anyway. He pulls out a glass jar from his bag, and spits into it, a small fire immediately sparking up. He caps it, and hands it to Chanyeol, who looks stunned. “Hug that.”

“That,” proclaims Chanyeol, “is the coolest thing in the world.” He holds onto the jar for dear life, and states, “I’m keeping this forever.”

“Too bad, it only lasts for fifteen minutes,” drawls Baekhyun, and Chanyeol looks crestfallen, making Baekhyun chuckle slightly.

His good mood only lasts for so long, though, when a group of boys appear in front of them, with grim looks on their faces.

“Hey, what’s this about?” asks Chanyeol, but the boys ignore him, focusing on Baekhyun.

The tallest one of the lot points at Baekhyun. “You,” he says, “need to get out of this town.”

“And why the hell should I do that?” retorts Baekhyun, frowning. Inwardly, he swallows hard, and knows that this isn’t going to end well. He should’ve known that something like this would happen.

“Because,” says the boy slowly, as if he’s speaking to a small child, “you’re not welcome here anymore.” And he adds, “Freak.”

Chanyeol bristles with indignation, and hisses, “What did you just say?” But Baekhyun feels a chill creeping up his spine, and he stares at the boys with fear. It is only then he notices the baseball bats they are holding behind their backs, and he tugs at Chanyeol’s sleeve.

“Run, now,” he murmurs, but Chanyeol isn’t going to leave his friend to fend for himself alone, and Baekhyun knows that. “You idiot, please, do this just once—“

“It’s okay,” says one of the boys lazily, “we don’t mind if he sticks around. Collateral damage and all that.”

At that, Baekhyun feels something flare up inside of him, and he pushes Chanyeol to the back, ignoring the yelp he lets out. “You better stay away from him. He’s my friend.”

“I’m surprised a freak like you even has friends,” says the boy, and he grins, twirling a bat. “Well, well.”

Baekhyun snaps his fingers, and a line of flames rises meekly from a crack in the pavement. It eats away at their sneakers before they realise what’s happening, and they jump away with loud shouts.

“You’re going to pay for this,” says the first boy, teeth gritted, and he surges forward at Baekhyun.

-

It ends badly.

Baekhyun doesn’t mean to hurt them, he doesn’t mean to hurt anybody.

It’s just that he gets so angry when one of them manages to land a blow on his best friend, and his powers get out of control. He almost seriously injures them, but in the end it’s just a few burns here and there. It’s enough, though, to set everyone against him. And him against himself too.

“You shouldn’t be around me anymore,” he ends up whispering to Chanyeol, backing away, “what if I hurt you?” And he sprints off, to the shouts of his name from both Chanyeol, and others arriving at the scene.

He runs as far and as fast as possible, not even caring where his destination is, and revels in the wind blowing in his face as he treks across the grass, and the first comings of snow.

Eventually, he ends up at the clearing, and he realises as he catches his breath that he hasn’t been here for over seven years. Ever since he gave up looking for them.

But then he hears a soft call of his name, a voice that’s been plaguing his dreams for the past ten years, and he turns around. “Kyungsoo,” he says automatically, and this time his eyes do not deceive him.

Out steps a young man from behind the trees, and his quiet gaze is as telling as ever. “You came back,” he says, and his voice is lower and smoother and it makes Baekhyun’s insides twist into horrible knots. “Why’d you stop looking?”

“Because I can’t—“ Baekhyun breathes, not able to find the right words. “It’s too much. I just… I didn’t want it. I don’t want this.”

“But you do,” says Jongdae, who’s appeared suddenly, and Baekhyun’s stomach constricts even more when he sees that face, that older face but still so familiar in all its features, and he falls to his knees, staring at the two of them. “You want this. You want us, too.”

“What have you been doing to me?” gasps Baekhyun, eyes flitting between the both of them. “Am I crazy? Have you been sending me those dreams the whole time? What’s wrong with me, why am I feeling this way—“

“No,” replies Jongdae, grinning, “the dreams were all you. We haven’t been doing anything.” He walks closer, but still not in reach of Baekhyun, and adds, “It’s all Magic’s doing.”

“What?” asks Baekhyun, gripping the ground. “Magic? You say that like it’s sentient.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Kyungsoo tilts his head, and smiles brilliantly, and just like that, Baekhyun’s completely gone. Baekhyun can’t stop the thundering heartbeat in his chest, and can’t stop the feeling of ‘mine, mine, mine’ that’s reverberating inside him. “You feel it, right? The pull.”

“Yeah,” whispers Baekhyun, a hand pressed against his front, “why? Are we connected or something? Oh God, I have so many questions.”

“We have the answers,” says Jongdae. “We’ve been waiting a long time to give them to you.”

“Come with us,” says Kyungsoo, and his smile widens. “It’s not cradle-robbing if it’s free-will, now, is it?”

“But, mum, and Chanyeol,” stumbles Baekhyun, “and my family, I can’t leave them!”

Then Baekhyun remembers the looks on their faces. The fear. The feeling of not knowing if he might accidentally hurt them. Their reactions to everything. And he sees the knowing looks on the other two’s faces, and glances down.

Kyungsoo stretches out his hand slowly, and breathes, “It’ll be okay, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun looks up, and sees the outstretched hand. And he sees Jongdae, right behind him. And he thinks to himself, there’s nothing left to lose. Everyone’s better off without him, anyway.

And they’re here, in front of him. After so many years. He can’t just let them go again.

He stands up, and takes Kyungsoo’s hand, a memory of the day his nine-year-old self took the hand of a much younger Kyungsoo as well.

The second their fingers make contact, Baekhyun feels a warm glow ebb between the hands, and it expands to his entire being, making him feel… content. Good. Safe. It felt right.

Kyungsoo brushes his thumb over Baekhyun’s cheek, and smiles, and Baekhyun figures he could spend a hundred years getting lost in that smile and never want to be found.

Suddenly, there’s a shout from behind him, and they all turn to look. It’s his mother, and his siblings, and Chanyeol, the only ones who would’ve warranted a guess to where he went.

“Baekhyun,” says his mother, and she has a panicked look on her face, “no, what are you doing?”

His doubts flood back, just for the slightest second, but then Jongdae reaches over to curl their free hands together, and Baekhyun feels lighter.

“Goodbye, mum,” he says, and his mother’s face falls in a horrified expression. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol has a distraught look on his face, seemingly rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight before him.

Baekhyun turns back to Kyungsoo, and closes the gap between their faces as their lips meet, in a soft kiss, that’s fleeting but utterly and completely real, and Baekhyun knows he’s made his choice. He allows Jongdae to lead him away toward the forest, and Kyungsoo turns to their assembled audience.

“You will see Baekhyun in time,” he says, smiling, his voice paper-thin, “in much time. He will be happy with Magic around him, do not fear.”

Chanyeol suddenly says, “Take care of him. Please.”

Jongdae laughs, and spins away into a breeze of dandelions, allowing for the looks of shock and amazement on their faces. Baekhyun laughs too, because he just knows now, and he waves goodbye as he watches Kyungsoo fade away into the sunlight.

“I’ll always be here with the winter snow,” he breathes, before he falls backwards, and disappears without a trace.

And the breeze stills, in an imitation of solemnity.

-

Long ago, her father had told her, there lived a strange kind of people in a strange forest.

They were called the Magic folk, and nobody knew much about them. It was said that they stole babies and young children from their families in order to bring them back to Magic itself, in order for them to grow up in Magic, so that nobody knew about them and their strange ways.

But then there was a boy, one day, a boy who made light with his hands, and fire with his breath. They stole him away when he was older, not when he was a child, and many were saddened by it, though many were also relieved. They thought him to be a monster. A strange thing. It almost seemed that the Magic folk were right in taking away the young before they had the chance to experience what this boy had experienced.

But she always asked her father, what happened to the boy after that? Did anyone ever see him again?

Her father had taken her to an open area near a forest, a beautiful clearing by a lake, and showed her where the boy had last stood.

And she didn’t believe it, not until she saw the face of a young man peeking out from behind a tree, and she’d pointed it out to her father with much glee.

“Baekhyun,” her father had said hoarsely, and she had no idea her father knew the boy in the story, not until then. “You look like you haven’t aged a day.”

The boy had a ghostly look about him, but he was beautiful, in his smile and in his eyes. “I don’t want you to bring her back here, Chanyeol.”

“Because you’ll take her?” Her eyes had widened at that. Take her like they had taken him? How strange, how amazing, she’d thought, but then she saw the look on her father’s face, and she changed her mind.

“It’s okay, dad,” she’d said quietly, still watching the boy with the lighted hands, “I’d rather stay here with you.”

Her father had exchanged looks with the boy, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“She looks just like you,” the boy had said in parting, before disappearing into the forest.

On the way back to town, she’d asked her father whether he was friends with the boy.

“I was,” he’d said, smiling in the funny sort of way that adults did when something sad had just happened. “But things change, you see. Like when winter comes and everything is cold.”

“But then winter goes after that, and everything gets bright again,” she’d said.

“Yes." He had smiled. "It does.”

-

fin.