Ember (41 page)

He
pull
e
d
b
a
ck
,
oblivious
,
it
s
eeme
d
.
“
W
h
e
n
w
e
a
r
e
ma
rri
e
d
,
I
w
ill
co
me
ho
me
to
this
.
”

A
sh
a
rply
dr
aw
n
br
ea
th
b
e
hind
th
em
stopp
e
d
h
e
r
fro
m
r
e
plying
.
S
h
e
a
nd
Ma
rtin
both
fro
ze.
M
ir
a
nd
a
w
inc
e
d
as
sh
e
pictur
e
d
th
e
sc
e
n
e
th
e
y
ma
d
e.

“
W
h
a
t
did
you
s
a
y?
”
c
ame
th
e
sh
a
rp
hiss
fro
m
h
e
r
f
a
th
e
r
.

S
lowly
th
e
y
turn
e
d
to
f
a
c
e
hi
m.
Fa
th
e
r’s
f
a
c
e
h
a
d
gon
e
p
a
sty
,
but
a
f
l
ush
of
a
ng
e
r
wa
s
quickly
rush
i
ng
up
his
n
e
ck
.
“
Y
ou
’
v
e
been
cr
ee
ping
b
e
hind
m
y
b
a
ck
,
h
a
v
e
you?
”

M
ir
anda
d
i
dn
’t
know
whe
t
he
r
he
spoke
t
o
he
r
or
Ma
rti
n.
I
t
d
i
d
no
t
ma
tt
e
r
.
They
we
r
e
one
i
n
t
h
i
s.
“
Fa
t
he
r
,
we
mean
t
t
o
t
e
ll
you.
”

“
O
h?
”
He
took
a
st
e
p
clos
e
r
,
a
nd
his
h
a
nds
fist
e
d
.
“
W
h
e
n
wou
l
d
th
a
t
be?
W
h
e
n
you’r
e
sw
e
lling
w
ith
a
b
a
st
a
rd
child?
”

She
lift
ed
he
r
ch
i
n.
“
Su
r
e
l
y
you
can
’t
ob
j
ec
t
t
o
my
ma
rr
y
i
ng
Ma
rti
n.
”

“
Su
r
e
l
y
I
can
!”
he
r
oa
r
ed.
“
I
t
o
l
d
you
t
o
s
t
ay
away
fr
om
h
i
m.
”

Ma
rti
n
fli
nched.
“
S
ir
…
”

“
Do
no
t
’
s
ir’
me,
you
was
tr
e
l
.
”
Sp
ittl
e
fl
ew
fr
om
Fa
t
he
r’
s

lips
.
“
I
tr
ea
t
you
lik
e
a
son
,
a
nd
this
is
how
you
r
e
p
a
y
me
?”

M
i
r
a
n
da
s
t
epped
i
n
f
r
o
n
t
of
M
a
r
t
i
n
.
“
Y
ou
t
r
eat
h
i
m
l
i
k
e
a
son,
and
ye
t
you
wou
l
d
deny
h
i
m
t
he
oppo
rt
un
it
y
t
o
become
son
t
o
you
i
n
tr
u
t
h?
Why?
”
She
c
l
enched
Ma
rti
n
’
s
hand.
I
t
was
t
oo
co
l
d.
“
To
wha
t
can
you
poss
i
b
l
y
ob
j
ec
t
?
”

The
hea
t
i
n
Fa
t
he
r’
s
eyes
d
i
mmed
j
us
t
a
b
it
.
“
I
’
ve
no
tr
ue
ob
j
ec
ti
on
t
o
you
r
cha
r
ac
t
e
r
,
boy.
”
Fa
t
he
r’
s
gaze
wen
t
t
o
M
i
r
a
n
da.
“
B
u
t
h
e
’
s
n
ot
m
ea
n
t
f
or
y
o
u
.
Y
ou
a
r
e
m
ea
n
t
f
or
some
t
h
i
ng
mo
r
e.
”
A
tr
emo
r
wen
t
t
h
r
ough
h
i
m.
“
Some
t
h
i
ng
g
r
and.
”

“
N
ons
e
ns
e
!
”
M
ir
a
nd
a
sw
a
llow
e
d
do
w
n
th
e
urg
e
to
scr
eam
at
h
e
r
f
a
th
e
r
.
“
Ma
rtin
a
nd
I
h
a
v
e
noth
i
ng
but
ea
ch
oth
e
r
,
Fa
th
e
r
.
”

“
Y
ou
a
r
e
not
mea
nt
for
hi
m
!”

S
h
e
l
a
u
g
h
ed.
“
I
do
n
’
t
s
ee
w
h
y
n
o
t
.
Y
o
u
r
d
r
ea
m
s
a
r
e
j
u
s
t
t
ha
t
,
Fa
t
he
r
.
”
She
l
e
t
go
of
Ma
rti
n
t
o
s
t
ep
c
l
ose
r
t
o
he
r
f
a
t
he
r
.
“
I
am
s
i
c
k
of
d
r
ea
m
s
.
I
w
a
n
t
t
h
e
r
ea
l
i
t
y
.
A
n
d
t
h
e
r
ea
l
i
t
y
i
s
t
h
at
Ma
rti
n
and
I
l
ove
each
o
t
he
r
and
w
ill
ma
rr
y,
whe
t
he
r
you
w
ill
it
or
no
t
.
”