Page 19 of Sweet Silver Bells
Silence wrapped around them. Her fierceness drooped under the weight of sorrow until her shoulders curled inward. She twirled her hair around her fingers, moonlight trailing her every move but never catching her completely.
“My name is Hunter,” he said gently.
“Pleasure,” she murmured, then turned away and slipped into the brush.
He stared after her, torn between escaping this nightmare and rescuing her from it. She was real. The forest seemed to bow as she passed, or maybe that was just his fractured mind inventing signs.
What was he going to do, drag her to a police station? Wrap her in blankets? She was fragile yet carved with a grief so deep it made his chest ache.
He hated seeing her pain.
“Wait,” he called, trudging after her. His boots squished through mud, so loud and clumsy compared to her quiet, weightless steps. She moved as if she could walk on water.
He struggled to keep her in sight. She did not pause or look back despite his voice breaking the forest hush. Any thought of forcing her anywhere slipped away.
She stopped at the edge of a clearing, and he halted a few paces behind, breathless, soaked through with melting snow.
She turned to him. Her skin shimmered faintly in the moonlight, more ghost than woman in that moment.
“I am sorry,” he said, panting. “I just wanted to catch up.”
“No one will catch me,” she whispered, frowning as if she had just remembered he existed. She raised her hand, and a familiar gleam made his chest tighten.
“This is why you came,” she said, examining his watch. “My father owned one like this, but not so flashy.”
She had a family.
“Thank you,” he murmured, reaching for it. She ignored his hand.
“Who gave it to you? You said it was a gift.”
“My wife.”
Her eyes widened, shadows deepening the hollows of her cheeks. She stepped back, shaken.
“Forgive me. I did not know you were married.”
“What would that change?”
She didn’t answer with words. She tossed the watch toward him. He fumbled but caught it and clipped it back on his wrist, relieved.
“I am not married anymore. She passed away.”
“Is she buried here in the forest?”
“What? No. Why would she be?”
She stepped closer, her expression softer now. “My father is buried here, among these trees.”
“I am sorry to hear that. When did he pass away?”
She looked away. “In 1914.”
Hunter let out a laugh he instantly regretted.
“What is funny?” Her voice trembled with an edge of outrage.
“It’s just ... it’s the year 2025.”
