The Wanted

I suppressed a chuckle.

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her feet as she shuffled through the snow that came up to her calves. “Sorry.”

Desh slung his arm over her shoulder and laughed. “Don’t be. You’re being uncharacteristically sweet, and I don’t mind it.” Man, I wanted to be Desh right about then because she turned, poked her tongue out at him, and gave him a real, rare, Rosa-smile.

It killed me, because by the time her face had come back to me, the smile was gone.

ROSA

At midday, we stopped for food and drink. I sca

“She needs time,” Joseph whispered as I tried holding the bread to her lips. She clamped them shut, shaking her head like I’d just waved a dead rat under her nose.

I put my hands on my hips and let my head fall in frustration. The air was clean, fresh, wet pine and snow creeping up my nose carried on a thin waft of wood smoke. “Smoke,” I said, my voice shaky as a crackle in the fire. “I smell smoke!”

We all turned in circles, searching for the source. The smoke wafted under my feet, pushing me higher. It had to be them. My eyes skimmed the trees but I couldn’t see anyone.

“There!” Joseph yelled, pointing down and northwest through a collection of leafless, blue-grey trees clothed in knitted, yellow moss. I didn’t wait. I tumbled off the road and sunk knee-deep in the snow, following the imaginary line Joseph had pointed out. It ran like crimson ribbon in front of me, melting an imaginary path in the snow.

“Rosa, wait!” they shouted, but I couldn’t stop. I ran, pushing my way through the snow like a plow, streams of sunlight piercing the gaps in the trees like the spokes of a wheel, strong and hopeful.

My legs were frozen, I think. I couldn’t feel anything except the warmth of Orry’s skin when I eventually held him. I couldn’t hear anything other than the sound he would make as I squeezed him, and the tears I would try not to cry. My eyes lifted to the soft rise and fall of the land. He had to be just over there, just past that ridge of trees. The smoke smell strengthened. My heartbeat did too, pulling out of my chest and pulsing for home.

I pulled at the tree trunks like they were the rungs of a ladder. Bark scratched my hands, and birds startled away from me. My breath was hot, my vision sharp as icicles.

A flap of wings and children’s laughter weaved its way through the trees. A sound I knew, like bells underwater. I halted. Snow seeped into my pants, my boots. I tucked my hair behind my ear and listened.

Two distinct laughs sailed up to the sky. Unfettered, unworried. Perfect.

I slowed, creeping towards the sound like a tiger stalking a deer. Afraid somehow that I would frighten them away.

My head poked past a frozen blackberry bush and I saw them, my heart breaking and melding back together. There they were, Hessa and Orry, playing together in the snow. It was an extraordinary, ordinary scene that slotted in my brain and took up permanent residence, knocking one old, bad memory out.

I crouched down behind the bush before they saw me. Scared of him. Scared to see if he was damaged. Orry grabbed Hessa around the neck, and they fell together in the snow. I carefully counted his fingers, checked his face for scratches, cuts, and bruises. His face had lost some roundness. But mostly, he was the same child. He was my baby, unaffected, like he’d been on a trip this whole time.

Alexei came striding through the trees, clucking his tongue. “You two are too rough with each other. And I’ve told you not to run off like that.”

The boys ignored him.

I shifted on my haunches and knocked a branch. Snow fell from it and made a slight noise. Alexei’s eyes snapped to the origin of the noise and found mine. I scrunched them tight and took a breath. It felt like a dream. Don’t be a dream. I put my finger to my lips to stop him calling out and stood. I could hear the others tromping through my path behind me.

I strolled out, trying to look casual, and smiled down at the two boys. My voice shook like the branches around me. “You want to see a trick?” I asked, bending down to meet their eyes. I pressed my fingers to my side to stop myself from reaching out, grabbing them, and smashing them together in a crushing hug. They both nodded eagerly.

Long ago, my father had showed me how to do this in our front yard. I wasn’t allowed to keep it. Mother had stood impatiently at the door, tapping her foot and waiting until we had kicked it in and smoothed the snow over, like it had never been there. But for that brief moment, where I was falling and laughing, free, I had pure joy and no fear. I was a normal child, doing normal things. The boys blinked up at me expectantly. I put my hands out at ninety degrees to my body and let myself fall back into the deep snow, swishing my arms up and down. The boys watched in fascination. While I was lying there, flapping like a wounded bird, Orry jumped on me, his tiny body making little impact.

“Mama,” he whispered, grabbing my cheeks and squeezing them together. I was crushed leaves, bleeding sap into the snow.

I sat up and pulled us both out of the hole I’d made.

Alexei stumbled over to me, smothering me with a hug as I managed to splutter through my tears, “See the shape of the snow? It’s called a snow angel, I think.”

Orry scrambled out of my arms and dived face first into the snow to make his own, with Hessa following him.

“You’re here,” Alexei said into my hair, his stuttering voice as comforting as a warm drink.

“I’m here,” I whispered, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of Joseph’s shirt.

Joseph stomped through the snow. His worried face suddenly smoothed of concern as he eased Rosa-May from his back and lifted Orry up by his jacket, peering underneath to catch his son’s eyes. “There you are.”

Orry laughed again, and the feeling it created in me was huge. Bigger than the mountain, rumbling and shaking the snow from its back with laughter. Because Orry was fine. Our son was absolutely fine.

Joseph snagged my arm and pulled me close. I thudded against his chest and all four of us, me, Rosa-May, Joseph, and Orry squished together in a messy, perfect hug.

ROSA

My heart split like a broken zipper every time Deshi approached Hessa. The boy didn’t know him. It had been over six months since they’d seen each other, and Deshi was a stranger to him.

“You can hate me if you like,” I whispered as I watched the painful exchange of Deshi holding out his hand to Hessa and Hessa hiding behind Alexei’s leg.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rosa,” he snapped. “I’m happy for you. God knows, you deserve some happiness.”

“Yeah, but so do you.” I thought about my month in the Superiors’ compound, understanding more than most what Deshi had been through to get here. I repeated back what Joseph had told me about Rosa-May. “He just needs time.”

Deshi waved me off, though I could tell his heart was punctured with a thousand holes. “I’ll be whatever he needs. If that’s no longer a father, I’ll accept that. I just want to be a part of his life.”

Joseph reentered the room, his face grave.

“How is he?” Alexei and I said at the same time.

Descending the stairs two at a time, he collapsed on the leather couch. He stared into the potbelly fireplace, which gri