Lucinda sat with Dale on the couch, curled in front of the fire, its heat a comfort as she leaned into him, bone tired, Gretel asleep in the guest room Lucinda and Dale had decorated in a way they hoped comforted and pleased her.
From the other room, Gretel cried out in her sleep.
Lucinda stiffened.
“She’ll settle down,” Dale said.
“That poor girl,” Lucinda said. “What kind of God allows a child to come to this earth only to have her treated as she’s been treated? Left without anyone.”
“She’s with us.”
“For now. But the abuse she’s suffered along the way. What reason could God have for bringing her into this world and having her treated this way?”
“I don’t know.” Dale pulled her closer to him. “You send your confirmation email?”
Confirmation. Canada. The dig. She’d forgotten it.
She had one day left to confirm her acceptance or be replaced. There was so much to do to prepare. And there was Gretel now too. Lucinda wanted to go. Yet she wanted to remain here too. “I think I’m going to call them instead. Explain things. The exceptional circumstances. Maybe they’d let me defer, participate in the next one. I hope they would understand.”
“They’ll understand,” Dale said.
“Maybe. Not everyone’s you.”
“Or you.”
The fire crackled.
Outside, a snowstorm had picked up, buffeting the windows with wind and snow. Inside, Lucinda was warm and safe, if mystified at the wrongs of the world, as sleep claimed her.