The sun was hazy, and I was cozy bathing in it.
The days went by slowly. I started to move around independently by the third day. I can't say I did much, except occasionally drag myself to the bleached chair outside, and watch Justine work.
She worked around the house each day. She could be found in her garden, in the house, and sometimes she hiked into the forest for firewood. I was careful to express my gratitude to Justine, as I knew my presence was a burden.
But not a day passed when I didn't ache for Bella.
I didn't know what Jadyn had done with her. I prayed his love for her still was strong enough to overpower the demon inside him. I was certain she would be terrified.
Sometimes I thought about what would've happened if I had managed to stop him from leaving our parents' home, all those years ago, before he went into the woods and came back irrevocably changed.
On the fifth day, Justine became moody.
I could tell by the way she dragged her feet and the way the veins in her eyes were like bright red ribbons. I could tell by the way her hair was so frizzy and flyaway, how I could see she hadn't bothered to put a comb through it.
Finally, one evening she snapped, "If you're gonna stay here, you must work!"
Then she stormed out again. She didn't return until much later in the evening.
I couldn't blame her in any way for her aggression. I was a burden on her. So quietly, I started to help her as much as I could, a little bit here and there.
I started to heal quickly. My legs ached less, and the cut on my head had closed up. But I knew I would have a scar.
I also learned that Justine was a stranger to most villages.
"I mostly live alone out here," She remarked one evening over supper. "I only go to villages when I really need supplies." She sighed. "And thanks to you, I'll have to go again soon for more bandages."
I continued to eat in silence, but I could tell she was lonely. Even when she snapped, it was a form of socializing.
I realized she just didn't know how to live with others.
I wondered how long she'd been alone.
I decided to try something, "The soup's good," I said and watched as she perked up a bit.
"Of course it's good, it's my recipe." But she smiled as she said it.
I almost pitied her, almost. Later that night she was back to her regular, argumentative self.
On the seventh morning, I woke and felt warm sunshine on my face from one of the many gaps in the roof.
I looked around for Justine, but she wasn't anywhere inside the house. I pulled myself out of bed. My legs were stiff, but I could manage a sort of limping walk. I made my way to the table, the water in the pot on its surface still warm. I figured Justine had gone out.
I poured water into a clay cup. It tasted slightly sour, and I figured that Justine had added berry juice to fix the water's naturally earthy taste.
It warmed me, right to my fingertips. When the cup was empty I dragged myself back to my feet. The door swung open with ease at my touch, and even more sunshine flooded my eyes, blinding me momentarily. The trees around the house swayed softly, the breeze warm and welcoming. I truly wished Bella and I had had a place as pretty as this.
"I'm gonna get her back," I muttered to myself, but those words seemed distant, as distant as Bella was from me.