Page 204 of The Black Witch

I think back, with no small amount of shame, to that day when Lukas came into the kitchen with me and threatened everyone so coolly, reducing little Fern to terrified tears.

“Iris and Bleddyn say you’re still mean,” she muses, her voice tiny, “but Yvan says you’re not. Not anymore.”

“Did he really?” A warm, pleasant flush prickles through me.

“Grandma says she doesn’t know. And I don’t know, either.”

I consider this. “Iwasmean, but I didn’t want to be. And I’m sorry. I’m not mean anymore. At least I hope I’m not.”

“Oh, okay.”

Everything is quiet for a moment.

“Fern?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you up in a tree? It’s not safe to be so high.”

“I’m playing Black Witch.”

My eyes widen with surprise. “Black Witch?”

“All the kids used to play it on the Islands. When the overseers weren’t looking. Someone gets to be the Black Witch, and everyone else has to hide.”

“What happens if she catches you?” I ask.

“She kills you, of course.”

I freeze in place. “That...sounds like a scary game,” I say, shame seeping through me.

This is my grandmother’s legacy? A child’s game where she’s the evil monster out to kill them?

“You’re pretty,” the little voice says.

“Thank you,” I reply, and I can hear her giggling through the leaves.

“Yvan thinks you’re pretty, too.”

“He does?” My cheeks grow warm with surprised delight.

“I told him you look like a princess, and he thought so, too.”

“Oh,” I say, charmed and lit up by this.

“He’s my friend,” she prattles on. “He plays with me sometimes.”

“Does he, now?”

I try to picture it. Serious, intense Yvan playing with a child. But then I remember that time I saw him with little Fern when she spilled the bubbles all over his shirt. I remember the smile on his face. How patient he was.

“He makes me toys, too.”

“Really?”

“Yup. He made me a bubble wand and a duck puzzle out of wood.”

“That’s nice.”

---