• I knock at Elisabeth’s door and she answers. Her hair now long, hiding her face. “Letticue!” she hugs me shaking. “Oh my goodness. How good it is to see you again.”
    “Logan is here too.” I smile hugging my big sister.
    “Really?” she gasps pulling away and looking around for him. I reach through the long mess of hair to pull it out of her face. She pulls back quickly. “No, I like it this way.”
    “You have always enjoyed short hair. You would always beg for it.”
    “Yes but I’ve changed since then.”
    I reach through the hair, and pull some back. There’s a bruise on her cheek. Without a word to be explained, she knelt to the ground facing away from me. I grab her hair, and with a knife from my holster I slice through her hair, making it short once more. “I’m not father Elisabeth. Get up.”
    My father was a man with a temper. My Brother took after that. But I took everything else from him; His compassion for others, that didn’t get in his way; his enjoyment of the little aspects of life, even when they were gone; the way he would attack his problems head on…
    But we were his only problem. He hit us when we misbehaved. He locked us in our room, if we step out of line. “Elisabeth.” I help her to her feet. “I am not dad.”
    She hugs me. “You always wanted to take after him. To grow up to be him.” she sighs. “When I was a younger child, you saw I took something out of mom’s room, and you struck me down, and locked me into my room.”
    “Really? And you think I would do it now?” She doesn’t answer. She simply bows her head. “I am not father.”
    “So, what will you do now?”
    “Is he coming for dinner tonight?”
    “Yes.” she sighs. “if he sees you saw my face, he’ll beat me again.
    “No, he won’t” I growl.
    “No, Letticue. He fought in the same wars you did.”
    “It was one war. It seemed like a few because it lasted for 8 years.”
    She hugs me. “And it was a horrid, dealing with the fear of losing you.”
    “But I didn’t die, did I?” I growl. “Do you need any help cooking?”
    “No. Do you mind soup for dinner?”
    “Soup is perfect.” I smile. “Are you using your chickens?”
    “Yes, please tell me you didn’t start loving the animal’s rights?”
    “Don’t worry, you’re safe till May.” I laugh.
    “What happens then?” she gasps.
    “I’m kidding.”