“Micah.”
Micah opened his eyes. Dawn had come and Adra called his name.
“It’s morning. You should leave soon.”
He sat up and twisted to stretch his back. Adra’s bag laid open on her bed. She must have struggled to pull it up from the floor. She smoothed a brush through her hair. He had watched her do this many mornings since they left the estate, but he’d never been this close. “How is your knee?”
“It still hurts.”
Loose hair leant extra youth to her face. Wisps clung to her cheeks as she brushed and others floated out into the space around her head. She sat in the middle of a wild, silky storm. He wondered how it felt. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“I had the food you left on the chair. Thank you.”
“You’ll need more before I leave. I can make you some tea to start.”
“That sounds good.”
“First, though, I’ll pack some more snow for your knee.”
When Micah came back with the snow, Adra was tying her hair up again. He wished she’d leave it down for a while. “Planning to limp to the nearest ball?”
She turned to him, her hands still tying. “I may do some more sleeping while you’re gone. Never know who you’ll meet in a dream.”
Micah’s stomach turned. He hadn’t revisited last night’s conversation since waking.
“It seems I’m still too groggy to tell a decent joke.”
|