Andy hated working with igo flowers. She would rather stomp all day in a thorn patch than prepare them. They smelled so bad that she would swear up and down that the scent burned her nostrils. Though, she couldn’t deny their usefulness. She had administered it to people hundreds of times throughout the years while sitting in the drafty rooms or makeshift shelters that the people of Bluewater made do with, holding their hands as the flowers eased their pain. With the cramped conditions, the rodent infestation, and the lack of nutrition, people in the slum were constantly sick. Igo flowers had helped save many patients' lives. That didn’t make her detest the plants any less, though.

  She remembered the first time she had gone to collect them with Salisa. It had been during the first few months that she had lived in Bluewater. Everything had been terrifying then. There were so many new people and Bluewater, with its many shadowy crevices and decrepit buildings, seemed made to fuel a child's nightmares. Andy was excited to get to leave the place behind for a few hours. Still, she was young, and to focus on one task for so long was difficult. She wanted to chase after birds and search for pretty rocks. Salisa, ever the stickler, demanded that they stay on task. They had been collecting herbs all day, and her feet felt swollen from walking so far outside the city. So, when she saw the pretty white flowers with pink centers that Salisa wanted her to pick, she was excited. She had immediately plucked one and brought it to her nose, only to realize it smelled like rotting flesh. She dropped it to the ground and scrambled away as if the blossom had bitten her. The young girl had cried for ages, face ruddy with tears, upset from a mixture of exhaustion and disgust. Salisa had none of her dramatics though and sent her right back to work. Andy gagged through her sobs as she placed the small flowers in the woven basket deposited at her side.

  Since that day, igo flowers were practically a daily fixture in her life. Their stems were greatly beneficial for reducing fevers. As a result, she was regularly tasked with removing the petals and mashing the stems with a pestle. Their stock constantly needed replenishing. No matter how many they gathered, it seemed like they always required more. So Salisa and her made regular trips up to the grove where they grew best.

  Luckily, she learned a couple of strategies to mitigate the horrendous scent. Place some more pleasant-smelling herbs nearby. Breathe through the nose as little as possible. She would also sit at their table as close to the window as she could. It wasn’t like the outside smelled all that great either, but it was better. The air always had this musty quality to it, and sweat-covered people continually passed. Andy, however, had been living in Bluewater for so long that the scent felt like home. From her position, she could hear the activity of the other residents. Some younger kids were kicking around an old ball. Old Asa’s daughter was haggling with a customer over the cost of some eggs. Now and again she could hear the scrambling of one rodent or another. It wasn’t exactly a quiet existence, but it was as peaceful as the residents could manage. As Andy peeled the stems, she took comfort in hearing the familiar voices.

  “Boo!”

  Andy flinched at the loud noise right next to her ear. Wincing, she rubbed at her elbow, which had rammed into the table at the movement. She swung her head around and faux glared at the girl leaning in the window.

  “Seriously, Priya? I almost broke the pestle. Salisa would kill me.”

  Priya smiled and shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first one you’ve broken.” Andy’s glare intensified at the light smirk that curved her lips.

  “I’ll have you know that that wasn’t my fault.”

  “You’re right, the pestle fell on Aunt Gia’s foot all by itself.”

  Andy snorted as she recalled the woman’s face. “She got so red.” The two girls started giggling at the memory. Priya’s pink eyes glittered with joy as she leaned even further through the window. Andy could hear her feet scrapping at the stone exterior as she tried to find a foothold.

  “Priya Vada! What are you doing leaning through my window?” The two girls tensed and exchanged a knowing glance. Quickly, Priya scooted out of the window, and Andy hurriedly got back to work. Her nose wrinkled as she focused on the scent once more. She hastily took in a breath through her mouth.

  “Nothing, Miss Salisa.” Andy watched through the corner of her eye as Priya clasped her hands in front of her and smiled up at the middle-aged woman.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing laundry with your older brother?” I saw him by the river.” Andy didn't need to see Salisa to know that her chin was raised and her arms her crossed over her chest. “Do I need to go tell your mother that you are shirking your chores?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “Then I suggest you hurry up and get to it. Your mother has enough on her plate with the baby without having to worry about you sneaking off.”

  Andy heard Priya scurry off, and Salisa made her way to the front door. She hurried her pace, though she knew Salisa would be in front of her in seconds. She bit her lip as the wooden door swung open, wincing as the hinges screeched. A cloud of dust spread in the door's wake.

  “That girl is as bright as sunshine, but has no sense of responsibility.” Andy glanced up as Salisa spoke, watching the older woman hang her cloak on a wooden coat rack Johnny Danes had made for them after they had helped deliver his fourth child. It had been a bit beaten up over the years. There were scratches in the wood, and one of the pegs was lost from when Andy and Priya had used it as a structure for a makeshift fort. It had grown to be a constant fixture in their little house, even if it took up too much space for what it was worth.

  Salisa turned around, rolling up her sleeves as she sat down opposite Andy and grabbed a handful of the igo flowers. For a few minutes, silence reigned as they worked. The only sound was the soft scuffing of their sleeves brushing across the table.

  Eventually, Andy licked her lips and asked: “How were your rounds?”

  Salisa hardly looked up from her work, her fingers nimbly parting the igo flowers' petals from their stems. The ends of the yellow scarf she wore around her forehead shifted with each movement. “Edgar Trent is getting better.” She dragged the heavy stone mortar from its position by the thin wall. “Hopefully he'll be well enough to go to the central market next Quall.”

  “It wouldn't matter if he was magically made well by the end of the day, no one who goes to the central market buys anything from vendors from Bluewater.” She tossed some more stems into the mortar harshly, her teeth gritting together.

  “He has to try. He has two teenage sons to feed, let alone the little ones.”

  “Yeah, well, he should find some other way to do it.”

  “He can sell his wares for a higher price there.” Andy didn't respond. Her jaw was tense as she glared at the divots in the table. Salisa sighed, changing topics as she started putting her stems into the stone bowl. “TiReines should deliver her baby any day now.”

  Andy perked up. “First babies are always the hardest.”

  “She's a strong young woman. Besides, if she survives this time, she'll be more sure of a safe delivery if she has any subsequent pregnancies.” Salisa pushed the mortar over to Andy and handed her the pestle before getting up to start a kettle of water. “Do you want some tea?”

  “Yes, please.” The pestle scratched at the bottom of the mortar as Andy mashed up the stems. She wrinkled her nose as the awful stench became even more prominent. Salisa rummaged around for two cups. The ceramic clinked together as she placed them next to the kettle as steam started to pour from the spout.

  “What about Old Asa?”

  “You shouldn't call her that.”

  “She’s ancient.”

  Salisa snorted. “Don't tell her that. She's bound to outlive us all.”

  Andy smiled. Old Asa wouldn’t care. She would have laughed and agreed with the best wink she could manage in her old age. She took all the children of Bluewater under her wing. Sometimes she would tell them stories from her childhood of travelling through Coren with her family. The wrinkles in her cheeks would deepen as she smiled down at them. She would always talk fondly of her Papa. All the children would be gathered around her - enraptured by the tales she would tell. Her eyes would sparkle with the light of a younger woman as she spoke. Plus, sometimes she’d manage to convince her daughter to give them a sweet treat from her stall.

  Salisa placed a cup in front of Andy. She quickly picked it up, caring little for how it burned her fingertips, and brought the cup close to her nose. She sighed as the scent of fresh herbs masked the igo flowers for just a moment.

  With Salisa's help, Andy managed to finish up with the igo flowers quickly and put them with the rest of the stock. There was about half a pouch's worth. Enough to deal with the day-to-day aches and pains people came to them with for a few days at least, but Salisa always liked to be prepared. They would definitely need to get some more in the next couple of days. She sighed and placed the pouch back on the shelf.

  They worked until the evening meal. They folded bandages and boiled some Etika sap to put in some honey sometime tomorrow. There were general upkeep things to be done too. Salisa had Andy dust the shelves and sweep while she made dinner. Dust twirled in the air as she twisted the duster around the many jars and boxes that lined the wooden shelves. By the time the two of them sat down to their roasted squash, they were exhausted. For someone who worked with plants regularly, Salisa was not a good cook, but Andy scarfed down the food without complaint. It was warm and heavy in her stomach, and by the time the sky faded into the red of the night, she was ready to go to sleep. She curled up beneath her blanket and was asleep within minutes.

  ~~~

  Andy woke to a banging on the door. Her eyes flew open, and she threw herself out of bed with nary a thought about the chill of the wood beneath her feet. Being awoken in the middle of the night wasn’t uncommon when you lived with the only healer Bluewater had to offer. She had come to learn throughout the years that you could tell a great deal about how urgent the matter was based on how much the door rattled as the person on the other side knocked. A broken bone or the beginning of a labor was important and incited a strong, steady knock - loud enough to awaken them but not so loud as to cause panic. However, this type of knocking, where the door sounded like it might break beneath the person’s hand, spoke of great urgency. Each creak and groan spoke of the fear and horror of the individual on the other side.

  It was the type of knock that had Andy stumbling out of her room, throwing on her meager shawl as her sleep-idled hands struggled to light a candle. Salisa poured out of her room a second later, racing toward the door with practiced urgency - muscle memory born of years of working within Bluewater’s borders. Andy scurried behind her, the small flame illuminating the room in an orange glow as the candle flickered with her movement.

  Salisa unlocked the door. On the other side stood Priya, her hand raised to knock again. Her eyes widened as the door opened, her whole body was shaking. She looked so small with the vast darkness looming just beyond her form.

  “Priya?” Andy’s voice took on a concerned edge.

  The young girl blinked heavily, pulling herself together enough to speak. “TiSalisa, I need your help. My mother was up with the baby when she fell.” Her voice cracked. “She won't wake up.”

  Salisa nodded. “Alright, let’s go.” She slipped on her sandals - recognizing that there wasn’t time to stop and get dressed. “Andy, grab the herb pouches.”

  She stepped out of the small house, Andy following soon behind her. Salisa's scarf trailed behind her like a banner as she ran. The three of them raced through the night, their feet pounding on the dry ground. Andy hardly felt the chill in the air. Her heart was racing in her chest. In the distance, she could see the yellow eyes of the cats that roamed the night. A few homes still had fires that lit their windows, and the scent of manure permeated the air. With the adrenaline pumping through her, Andy's senses were both extremely sensitive and utterly dulled. It felt like being dragged underwater, desperate to reach the surface again.

  “Did she hit her head when she fell? Was there blood?” Andy used Salisa’s voice as an anchor. The steady tone shielded her from the panic that twisted her gut. She was her torch, guiding her through the caverns in her mind.

  “I don’t know.” Priya stammered. “I hardly got a look at her before father sent me in search of you.” Her voice was choked with smothered cries.

  Andy was never more thankful for the close quarters of Bluewater than at the moment they rounded the corner that led to the Vada residence. The door was still open, the light of a candle lighting the doorway. Standing within the entrance was one of Priya’s little brothers, his ill-fitting nightshirt hanging off one of his shoulders as he stared at them with pleading eyes. His hair was still rumpled from sleep and a few stray tears were trailing through a smudge of mud on his face. She pumped her legs to go even faster at the sight. The Vada children were the closest thing she had ever had to siblings. It was her job to protect them. They had been through everything together. They taught her how to search for scraps when food was lean, and how to get coins from sympathetic people in the city center. To her, they were a symbol of her connection to Bluewater, a bridge to the deep-rooted connections the community fostered to survive.

  Salisa moved ahead, guiding the young boy out of the way as she barrelled into the house. The crumbling floorboards cried under her footfalls. Priya and Andy followed close behind her. The apprentice practically stumbled into the room, her eyes wide with panic. There, sitting in the center, was Raymond Vada cradling his wife’s head on his knees. His hands were shaking as he carefully stroked his wife's soft cheekbone. He looked up at Salisa with wide, horror-filled eyes.

  “She was feeding Brennan when she fell. I didn’t want to move her just in case.”

  “Has she regained consciousness?” TaVada shook his head. Salisa kneeled at his side, immediately reaching out to touch her forehead. “And the baby?”

  “He seemed fine. He’s with his brother in the other room.”

  “I’ll look at him after, just in case.” Salisa started looking for contusions on TiVada’s head. “Andy,” she called, turning to look at her apprentice, “bring the herbs over. We need to get her fever down.”

  Andy rushed forward, the words finally pulling her out of her fog of fear. Having a task eased her mind. It gave her a way to channel her fear. To use her skills and aid those in need. She kneeled beside Salisa and pulled out the bundles of herbs. “We’ll need hot water for the igo flowers,” she said as she pulled open the string pouch.

  “Priya,” TaVada said, “go put the kettle on.”

  “Was she ill before she fell?” Salisa looked up at TaVada. Andy followed suit.

  “She said that she was a bit sore at dinner, but she wasn’t flushed.”

  Salisa frowned. “This fever is much too high for such a late onset.” She reached for TiVada’s hand, preparing to check her pulse as they always did, when her face paled.

  Andy, not used to seeing such a reaction from her mentor, immediately felt an eerie fear rush through her body. She tensed. “What? What’s wrong.” Then, she saw it - the purple stripes stretching along TiVada’s forearm. She froze.

  “Three Sunset Fever,” Salisa’s tone betrayed her shock. She simply stared down at the arm in her grasp for a moment before turning to Andy. “You need to leave now.” Her tone made it clear that it was a command, sharp as the prick of a thistle. She grasped Andy’s arm, her fingers like a vice.

  “But, I-”

  “Now, Andy,” her voice was hard, even for Salisa. Like a stone that demanded the river flow around it. That, of everything, told Andy how serious this was. “Go home, get out of these clothes.” Her brown eyes were stern. “Put them outside the front door and don’t touch them again.”

  “Salisa, I wa-”

  “Andy,” the older woman glared, her brown eyes flashing in the dim light, “go now.”

  Finally, Andy acquiesced and stood up, her limbs shaking slightly. Salisa immediately turned back to her patient, taking off her headscarf and wrapping it around her mouth. Andy glanced at Priya. Her friend gave her a weak smile, all she could muster with the fear coating her every movement.

  Andy felt like she was in a daze as she made her way home. Like a puppet, walking through the darkness without conscious thought. It was only after she had stumbled back into the house and lit the backup candle that her mind seemed to return to her.

  Three Sunset Fever. She had never seen it before. She knew of it, though, and the name struck fear through her chest. Her breath caught, frozen with terror in her lungs, as the symptoms raced through her mind. While other kids played outside, Salisa had made sure to teach her about all the illnesses she had encountered through her decades as a healer. The older woman had developed tough skin, able to discuss gruesome and fatal illnesses with a calm demeanor. However, even her voice seemed to falter when she discussed Three Sunset Fever. She described the times she had encountered it, and the symptoms that accompanied it, with a weary tone. Fever. Seizures. Coughing blood. A nasty illness that ripped through patients, leaving corpses in its wake, garnering itself a reputation for killing its host within three days. It was every healer’s worst nightmare, fast-acting, contagious, and deadly - and Priya was sitting in an infected house - a perfect target.

  After following Salisa's instructions, she slumped down at the table in a new nightgown. It was small, digging into her armpits and only a few inches below the knees. She didn't care, though. All she could do was stare aimlessly at the remnants of igo flowers dotting the table. She rolled a petal beneath the pad of her finger. The pale pink at its tip was the same shade as Priya’s favorite dress. Andy remembered with fondness the day that Priya had sauntered over to the healer’s house, peering through the window to show off the pink dress that her mother had bartered for. Right from the beginning it hadn’t been the prettiest dress - second-hand and out of date - but to the two young girls, the thin weave had been interwoven with dreams. They were younger then, less aware of the surrounding hardships. Looking back on it, Andy couldn’t help but wonder what Priya’s mother had given up to afford it. Had she forgone one meal? Two?

  She sighed, dragging herself back to the present. Everything seemed so normal even a few hours ago. Priya had been smiling, teasing her as she always did. A ray of sunshine in the slum. It was hard to reconcile that image with the horrified expression on Priya’s face as she stood outside their door only half an hour ago. She had seemed so young, like the little girl who used to shake her awake due to nightmares. This was worse, though. The nightmare was real. They could die. Everyone in Bluewater knew death, it infested everyday life with a clockwork-like regularity, but it was always hardest when it came for you and those you cared about. TiVada was ill, and the chances were that others in the family would fall sick too. Andy saw that realization in Priya. She had been terrified, desperate to ensure her mother's survival.

  Andy’s limbs felt heavy. Even blinking seemed like a challenge. Hours passed, Andy watching the light change as the moon traveled across the sky. She strained to hear any noise coming from the Vada house, hoping for information and yet thankful not to hear wailing echo through the night air. Maybe wailing would be better though, at least it could signal that TiVada had awoken. The silence was terrifying. It clung to her, soaking into her mind and presenting her with images of death and gore. Priya coated in her mother's blood. TiVada seizing on the floor while her baby cried in the background. They haunted her, fuelled by the darkness pooling in the narrow room. She fell asleep, still wrapped in terror's embrace.

  ~~~

  It was early morning when Salisa returned. She looked tired, only in her undergarments, her clothing having been left in the pile next to Andy’s. She threw a cloak around her shoulders and sat down opposite her young charge. The girl had awoken only half an hour ago. Her limbs were still shivering, whether from the chill of the morning or spasms of fear, she didn't know. Her stomach was rumbling, but she felt too nauseous to eat.

  “TiVada is breathing a little more steadily.”

  Andy blinked slowly, her eyes trailing up to Salisa’s face. The woman’s skin was pale, highlighting the dark bags underneath her eyes. “And Brennan?”

  “He’s alright.”

  “What about the others?”

  Salisa sighed. “For now they all seem to be fine. I’ve instructed the children to stay away from their mother. TaVada and I will care for her.”

  Andy leaned closer, her hands digging into the wooden table. “Can I see Priya?”

  Salisa sighed wearily and shook her head. “She will have to be quarantined.”

  Andy shook her head, her voice increasing in pitch as desperation flooded her system. “But she’s not sick.”

  “Her whole family could be contaminated with the virus, if not the whole of Bluewater.”

  Tears gathered in Andy’s eyes. She wiped at them, but more took their place. “But she needs me.”

  It sounded like a child's plea, but to Andy, the words were a fulfillment of a vow. Priya and her were a team. The two of them may have been the lowest of the low, scoffed at any time they entered the heart of the city, but no matter what, they had each other. They were there to dry each other's tears. They'd braid each other's hair and talk about the pretty dresses in shop windows that they could only dream of wearing. Together they explored every nook and cranny of Bluewater. Priya had been the one to welcome Andy with open arms, and Andy was determined to shield her friend from whatever came her way.

  Salisa analyzed her for a moment as she stood and made her way around the table. She kneeled and grabbed Andy’s arms, guiding her to look at her mentor. The young girl tried to pull away, but the healer wouldn’t budge. “Andy,” Salisa's voice was stern, “you care about Priya, don’t you?” Andy sniffled and nodded, tears trailing down her cheeks. “So does the rest of the community, but right now the Vada family is sick, and we can’t risk the rest of Bluewater becoming ill.”

  Andy snorted and looked away, her chest filling with burning anger at the injustice of it all.

  Salisa guided the young girl’s eyes back to herself. “Hopefully they will all get through it,” she wiped away one of the tears, “but until they do, you have to stay away. Alright?”

  Andy gritted her teeth, staring into Salisa’s brown eyes defiantly for a second longer. Then, all the fight left her and she collapsed into herself. She cried, her arms curled around her own torso. Her frame shook violently, but through her cries, she murmured, “Alright.”

  Salisa sighed. “I want you to go to Asa’s house. Tell her daughter that you need to stay with them for a while.” She pulled back, making eye contact once more. “By now everyone will know something is wrong. She'll take care of you while I stay with the Vada family.”

  “Why?”

  “This sickness is dangerous, Andy, and I can’t risk it spreading by having you around me. Bethany will take care of you until I am no longer a contamination risk.”

  Andy wiped at her eyes. “I can’t see you either?”

  “Not up close, not until this is over.” Salisa clasped her shoulder, her fingers digging into Andy’s bony arm. “Now, do as I say. Don’t go causing Bethany any trouble, she has enough on her plate caring for her mother.”

  Andy nodded. She wanted to pull her mentor into a hug, her aching heart desperately searching for comfort and familiarity, but Salisa stood back up before she could muster the courage. She rubbed her nose against her sleeve. The salty taste of tears coated her lips.

  The woman’s face was all business as she said. “Go gather your things, only the essentials. Then straight to Asa’s. I’ll see you when the infection has run its course amongst the Vada family.” With that, she turned to the herb stores, her focus back on her work. Andy bundled what she needed in her blanket, put her cloak over her shoulders, and slipped out of the house without her mentor raising her head once.

  ~~~

  The first night with Old Asa and Bethany wasn't easy. The two women welcomed Andy with open arms, just as Salisa had said. They gave her a warm meal of carrot soup and even a few berries for dessert. The small home was warm and inviting, a soft yellow light permeating through the kitchen that Bethany bustled around in. Her soft muttering voice was melodious and sweet. There was an anxious energy in the air, though. By now the whole community knew what had befallen the Vada household, and everyone was concerned for the young family's safety. Andy slept fitfully that night, wrapped in a thin sheet the women had been using to block out the harsh midday sun.

  Andy could tell something was wrong the moment Bethany came in the door the following afternoon. Her bite of porridge hung abandoned on her spoon as she analyzed the young woman. There was a certain look people got when they heard bad news. Andy had seen it enough times during her years in Bluewater to recognize the signs. Pinched lips. Roving eyes. Heavy footsteps. It was all there, written in every one of Bethany’s movements.

  Old Asa leaned forward in her chair, the wrinkles in her face stretching as concern overtook her features. “What’s the news?”

  Bethany laid her basket on the table, her eyes searching its surface aimlessly. “The Fever has spread.”

  “To another family?”

  “No, thank the music.” Her shoulders hunched. “Jesper fell ill just this morning.” She fell silent, but Andy could tell there was more. Bethany sighed. “And Priya fell ill with a high fever late last night.” Andy froze, the wooden spoon clattering to the floor. Her hands fumbled for it before curling around the edge of the table uselessly. Bethany rounded the table. “Andy I’m su-“

  Andy stumbled out of her chair, wiping her hands on her dress. A reassuring smile pulled at her lips, but it was ill-fitting and strained. “I’m going to sit outside. You can have lunch without me. I’m not feeling very hungry.” She dipped her head respectfully before dashing out the door.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  ~~~

  An hour or two passed before Old Asa made her way onto the porch. Andy was curled up, staring out at the residents of Bluewater as they went about their day. The elderly woman didn’t say anything. She simply sat in her rocking chair and joined Andy in her people-watching, humming as the chair rocked beneath her. Andy could feel sweat trailing down her back, the shade of the porch doing little to protect her from the sun, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

  “Is Priya going to die?” The words slipped out without Andy making the conscious decision to speak. They just tumbled out, a jumbled mess of fear and loneliness that demanded to be made known.

  Old Asa stopped humming and turned as best she could to look at Andy. “I don’t know, hun. Sunset Fever is a nasty sickness.”

  “You didn't see TiVada, she looked dead.” She curled up, her knees digging into her chest.

  “Young people are pretty tough, they have a way of surviving even when death is tugging on their string.” Old Asa sighed, leaning back in her rocking chair. The old floorboards creaked as she rocked back and forth.

  “Have you ever known someone who has gotten Sunset Fever?”

  “Yes - me - a long time ago. My father and brother got it too.” Her gnarled hands rubbed at the patchy varnish. “The fever got so bad it felt like my skin was melting like candle wax. A priest was called right before I fell into a deep sleep.” She went quiet for a minute, her eyes taking on a faraway look. When she started speaking again, her voice sounded distant. “When I woke up, four days had passed, and I was informed that neither my father nor my brother had survived the illness.”

  Andy felt as the blood rushed away from her cheeks. “They were gone? Just like that?”

  “Don’t look so horrified, hun.” Old Asa smiled softly at her. “Everyone has their time to go.”

  “It can’t be Priya’s time. She’s going to make it.”

  “She is a tough little lady.”

  “I wish Salisa would let me see her.” Her face scrunched up as she glared at the floor.

  “The healer is right to keep you away.”

  Andy jumped to her feet, her heart pounding wildly. “I am her apprentice. I could help her take care of Priya and the rest of the Vada family.” Tears sprung to her eyes and she hurriedly wiped them away with the palm of her hand. “It’s my job to take care of them.” The words were quiet and filled with emotion.

  “You’re right, you are a fantastic healer and one day the community will rely on you just like we rely on Salisa, but you are also a child,” she placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder, “and that comes before being an apprentice.”

  Andy swung around. “So I am supposed to just do nothing while Priya fades in and out of consciousness?”

  “Priya would want you to stay safe.”

  “She would want me to help her.”

  “No one can know if Priya will come out of it. Not me, nor you, or even Salisa.” She sighed. “All we can do is give her the best odds possible. I'm sure there is something you can do to help her plenty from here.”

  Andy’s shoulders slumped as the fight left her. She scuffed her foot against the porch. “Where should I start?”

  “That’s up to you. After all, you’re the healer.”

  Andy thought about her conversation with Old Asa as she walked around the neighborhood in the hours that followed. It was odd, seeing all the places Priya and her frequented without the lively girl at her side. There was the alley where the feral cats caught bug-infested rodents, the fabric stall where they picked up scraps of stained ribbon to adorn their hair, and the meager food stands that sometimes gave the children a morsel or two. Priya had been the one to take her in when she had first arrived in Bluewater, afraid and overwhelmed. Her warm smile and boundless energy had blanketed Andy, providing her with comfort as she got used to her role as Salisa’s apprentice.

  Now, with Priya laid up with illness, the narrow pathways seemed barren. Without the dark-haired girl's cheer, Andy couldn’t help but notice the dust and grime that coated everything and how desolate the crumbling buildings looked. Even the sky seemed grayer. It was not that those aspects of Bluewater hadn’t existed before. Andy saw the rats scurrying about and had seen the decay just like anyone else who resided in the slum. It was just that Priya made those things fade into the background. She would make up stories for the rats that felched food, telling Andy grand tales of their lives in the shadows. The decrepit buildings were marvelous castles to Priya’s eyes. Each and every one was a perfect place for an adventure. Within their walls, they could be whoever they wanted to be. Their faded dresses and skinned knees didn’t matter. They could be princesses, musicians, librarians, or knights. Anything their hearts desired.

  With Priya, Andy was able to create worlds of their own design. There was no hunger or cold. No need to fear disease or pain. It was a charmed life, and she couldn’t wait for her friend to get better so that they could return to making the best of it.

  Priya, however, may never get better. That thought terrified her. She knew she had to do something, but her mind was swimming with an overwhelming fear. She kicked a rock in frustration, utterly angry at everything. Furious that Priya was sick. Mad that no one could guarantee her safety. The sun was beating down on her as her mind went in circles. Her breath was coming faster and faster and her vision was blurring as she struggled to take in air. She stumbled to her knees, her nails digging into the dry ground as she tried desperately to regain the calm demeanor Salisa had spent years instilling in her. She carded her hand through her hair as her breathing started to even out.

  Just as she was about to get up, the hand that was stabilizing her brushed against something. She turned her head to see a small pink blossom. Its petals were damaged, crumbling slightly as Andy's shaking fingers brushed against the stem. She knew then, looking at that flower, what she had to do. Salisa would probably be outraged, but Old Asa was right - Andy was a healer. If Salisa wouldn't let her be by Priya's side she would just have to find another way to help in a way that only a healer could. She raced back to her caretaker’s home, rambling to the elderly woman about her plan in fragmented sentences. The last few hours of sunlight were spent in jittery anticipation for the morrow, the child barely able to sit still as the hours ticked by. When night came she was thankful, happy that sleep would speed along time’s endless march.

  ~~~

  Andy woke up early the next morning and grabbed a piece of bread from Bethany before racing out the door before the younger of her two caretakers could get a word in edgewise. Her cloak bounced as she raced toward the forested edge of the slum. A few small herb pouches hung at her side. It felt odd walking these paths without Salisa. She had never traveled outside the slum without her mentor. In fact, if Salisa knew what she was doing, she would certainly be in for a scolding. She had faith that Old Asa would cover for her, though.

  Besides, she knew these paths better than almost anyone else in Bluewater. She had been gathering herbs with Salisa for years. She knew what to search for and what to avoid. Plus, she had a plan. One of the first symptoms of Three Sunset Fever was the extremely high fever that it took its name from. Salisa would need a large quantity of igo flowers, and Andy was going to make sure she had as much as she needed of the potent plant.

  Salisa had been a strict teacher. Right from young, she had expected Andy to excel. She demanded that the young girl know every remedy. First, teaching her the necessary plants until she could name them through scent alone. Andy had spent hour after hour memorizing them, fighting off the sweltering heat of summer and the harsh winds that blew through their window in the winter. Then, she had been taught how to make the remedies from the ingredients. She learned how to create precise recipes with everything from the flowers that grew within the slum to the beetle wings that Salisa traded her services to collect. Her feet would ache as she stood by her mentor, scrambling to memorize everything the woman said. It had been a grueling education, one devoid of many of the pleasures of youth. Yet, now, with Priya's life hanging in the balance, she couldn't help but thank Salisa for her demanding tutelage.

  It was through the healer's teachings that she knew exactly where to look for the awful-smelling flowers. Salisa had gone out with her in search of them innumerable times. Her feet knew the path without truly thinking. She could have gathered them in her sleep. Yet, even with all that knowledge, this was still the first time in years that she would be going to collect ingredients without Salisa telling her to do so.

  The woman was meticulous about her stock, checking them every morning and every night. There had been one day, years ago now, that Andy had gotten it in her head to go collect the plants on her own. She hadn't done it since. Salisa had been furious when she had shown up sweaty and scrapped with a variety of plants. She had been so angry that the following day people kept a distance - able to feel the chill in the air as the healer walked through the grimy streets. She had demanded that Andy throw them in the hearth, saying that the young girl could have picked poisonous growths that would kill their patients. So Andy had stood and watched as the flame consumed all the evidence of her hard work, doing her best to quiet her sniffles so that they could not be heard over the crackling of the fire. She had spent months after the incident pouring over everything Salisa had taught her, looking for some mistake she had made that would have warranted the reaction. She never found one. The plants she had brought were the right ones, she hadn't accidentally brought a dangerous lookalike. Nor had she picked any plants incorrectly or out of season.

  This time, however, she was older and Salisa was indisposed. She had been under Salisa’s tutelage almost as long as she could remember. Hopefully, this time, Salisa would accept the ingredients without complaint. Priya needed the remedies they would produce, and Andy wasn't willing to compromise on her care. Still, it felt odd to be out gathering plants without Salisa's direct orders. She felt like a naughty child weaseling their way out of bedtime.

  She had put up the hood of her cloak to protect her from the harsh afternoon sun before she finally made it to the Etika trees that the blossoms liked to grow beneath. The trees were tall, with a red trunk and blue-tinged leaves. They weren’t common around Bluewater. By the time that she finally made it to the grove her feet were throbbing, and her shoulders were drooping.

  Andy spent the better part of the afternoon searching for igo flowers. She wandered beneath the canopy of trees, searching for shadowy areas where the little white flowers would grow. Every time she would find a patch, she would kneel down and pick the best blooms, analyzing each stem for signs of decay. Only the best flowers would be used to help treat Priya and her family.

  By the time she made her way back toward Bluewater, she had two pouches full of igo flowers bouncing at her side. Her nose wrinkled as she made her way back toward the familiar streets, taking shallow breaths through her mouth at the onslaught of scents. It was always rather dizzying to return to Bluewater after the fresh air of the tree groves where igo flowers bloomed.

  She made her way down the well-trodden path to the healer’s house. She paused at the door, her hand hanging inches from the doorknob - the echoes of Salisa’s anger from years past ringing in her ears. With a little shudder, she gritted her teeth and pushed the door open.

  It felt odd entering the small house despite having been there only a few days prior. It felt like a time capsule - the tale of a moment. She glanced around. There were the soup bowls from their dinner the night Priya came knocking on their door. On the table were some partially processed herbs, browning from their position beneath the window that Andy and Priya spoke through while she worked.

  She felt like an intruder as she made her way toward the shelves, burgling the pestle and mortar sitting on the shelf and turning to sit at the table. She poured out the contents of her pouches, watching the flowers tumble out like a pile of flour. With a shake of her head, she got to work - there was no time to think about what the flowers looked like.

  She started splitting the stems from their blossoms, her nose wrinkling as the horrendous scent wafted under her nose. Slowly, the pile of flowers grew smaller and the mound of stems in the mortar grew. Her fingertips grew stained green, dashes of pollen clinging to her nail beds. She found herself listening to the hustle and bustle of Bluewater, searching out a voice she knew would not be found amidst the chatter. A lump formed in her throat, and she stubbornly swallowed around it as she got to work mashing the stems into little bits. The pestle clanked against the mortar, her knuckles turning white as she tried to wrangle her emotions back under her control.

  Her hands shook, the cool stone digging into her calloused skin as she worked. It felt like someone was squeezing her heart, delighting in the way her pulse’s cry echoed in her ears. With a grit of her teeth, she threw the pestle to the table, the stone shattering with the force of the fall. She slumped to the table, hastily rubbing at her eyes as she sucked in shallow breaths.

  “Please, Priya,” she muttered into the shield of her arms, “follow the flute’s call.”

  The door slamming open made Andy jump, her head shooting up to see Bethany standing in the doorway. The woman was looking frantically back at her. Her usually immaculate brown hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling in front of her face as she met Andy’s eyes.

  Andy shot to her feet, her fingers digging into the table. “Is it Priya? Is she okay?”

  “No, no, she’s fine. It’s Salisa, she’s looking for you.”

  The girl swallowed, nodding her head in acknowledgement as she poured the contents of the mortar into one of the herb pouches - studiously ignoring the stone fragments littering the table. With one last glance around, she made her way out of the house, a few steps behind her temporary caretaker. The blazing sun was starting to give way to a cool evening breeze, it ruffled her skirt as the two of them made their way toward the Vada residence. Her mentor was waiting for her there, the ends of her scarf snapping harshly in the breeze. Old Asa was standing at her side, looking apologetically back at Andy.

  “You nearly gave Bethany a heart attack, she went searching for you before morning market to find you missing.” Her voice was eerily still, and Andy couldn’t help but shiver in response. “You know that you aren't to gather ingredients without my instruction.”

  Salisa's posture seemed composed, but there was a fire in her eyes that Andy rarely saw. A part of her wanted to scuff her foot on the ground and apologize like a small child caught sneaking sweets. The other part of her, though, the part that knew she was capable, was boiling with frustration.

  “You deliberately disobeyed me.” The words hung in the air, heavy and icy.

  Andy swallowed. “I've been gathering igo flowers for years.”

  “Not alone.”

  “Please, Salisa, you have to be running out by now.” She indicated the rickety house. “You have three patients with high fevers.”

  “It is being managed.”

  “You taught me how to gather ingredients. Why can't you trust me to do a good job.”

  “Because I have seen it go wrong." For a moment the fire in her eyes was an inferno, and in the next, that fire had turned to ash. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress compulsively. Then she glanced side to side, checking if anyone had heard her outburst. Then she turned and in a faux calm voice said, “Leave them at the door. I will inspect them when I have a moment.” She turned sharply toward the house, her sandals snapping against the ground as the door swung closed behind her silhouette.

  Andy watched her go, her face still flushed with anger but her mind was reeling from the fear that had poured out of Salisa's words. She was so shocked that it took her a moment to feel the heady mixture of relief and joy at her victory. She hurriedly placed the basket of igo flowers on the Vada's stoop before her mentor could change her mind.

  Afterward, without the basket in hand, she felt aimless again, waiting with bated breath for Priya's recovery. She knew, though, that she had done all that she could. All that was left to do was pray that Priya’s string would hold strong.

  ~~~

  The next couple of days felt agonizingly long and yet blurred together. Andy was hardly able to sleep, waking from nightmares that left sweat pooling around her joints. Every day, she waited for news of Priya's recovery. On the second day, they learned that TiVada's fever had broken. She was fragile and would take time to recover, but she would survive. The community brightened at the information, hopeful for the same outcome for Jesper and Priya. They would stop Andy on the streets, telling her how worried they were, and to tell them if there was anything they could do to help. It was a kind gesture, especially from those who had so little themselves, but none of them could offer her what she truly wanted - to go see the cats with her friend, run through the alleys, or simply laugh at her side. Anything, so long as it included a healthy, thriving Priya.

  Bethany tried to take her mind off of her friend by getting Andy to help at the stall she set up every day in the street. There she sold eggs, vegetables, jams, and nuts. When she could, she went deeper into the city to sell small bottles of scent from sweet-smelling blossoms. The bottles fetched a handsome price as long as she could find someone willing to buy from an individual from Bluewater. She once even traded one for a fine cane for her mother. All the children had marvelled at the walking stick, admiring the way the metal glinted in the light.

  Andy had seen her set up her stall a thousand times. Still, on any other day, she would be thrilled to be part of the process, but nothing could distract her from the terror roaming like a wild beast at the edge of her mind. She did her best to be helpful, though. She bartered with people and set new stock out when it was depleted. Her smile was cheerful and everyone who passed received a kind word. She was thankful, though, when they packed up for the evening, and she could retreat into the solitude of her mind.

  ~~~

  Old Asa came to her in the dead of the night on the third day. Andy had awoken to her warm grip on her shoulder. Her eyes were blurred with sleep as she blinked up at her elderly caretaker, but she was thankful for the rousing. The nightmares had been particularly haunting that night. The creases of the woman's face were shrouded in shadow from the candle she held at her side.

  “Is it time to get up?"

  Old Asa exhaled, the sound echoed off of the thin walls of the sparsely furnished room. “No, hun. It's not time to get up yet.” Andy rubbed at her eyes, confusion furrowing her brow. The old woman gently coaxed her into a seated position, settling her against the fraying shawl they had scrounged up for her to use as a pillow. “Salisa sent word."

  Newfound energy chased away the sleep that clogged Andy's mind. The floorboards creaked as her posture stiffened in anticipation. “Has Priya's fever broke?”

  Old Asa placed the candle at her feet and sat down on the floor by the young girl. She looked so frail in the blue of the night. Andy frowned, reaching out as the old woman groaned as she tried to settle on the aging floorboards. “No."

  Andy frowned “Oh. Well, I'll go out and get more igo flowers tomorrow.”

  “She won't be needing any flowers, hun. The stringbearer took her.”

  A chill swept through Andy, unlike anything she had felt before. It was hard to describe, something she could barely comprehend in her shock. All she knew was that it crushed her heart like a pestle crushed herbs. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the room. Her hands clutched at her nightgown shakily as she stared up at her elderly companion with tear-filled eyes.

  It was only Salisa's training that kept her from spiralling into a full-blown panic. Andy had seen awful things before. Mothers who lost children and peers who lost parents. She had helped hold a man still as Salisa amputated a leg damaged beyond repair. Her daily life as a healer's apprentice was filled with the despair of the ill and the dying. This, however, was beyond anything she had faced before. This was her soul being ripped from her body. It left her breathless. Her chest aching with reverberating pain. The reality of it refused to stick, slipping and sliding in her head so that it couldn't take root.

  She inhaled, holding her breath in her chest, just as her mentor had taught her. The air seemed poisonous in her lungs, and she wanted nothing more than to release it in a scream. One by one, she released her fingers from the nightgown. Her eyes slipped closed as she tried to settle her mind. She imagined herself at Salisa's side, surrounded ding by the scent of herbs that trailed with the woman. She exhaled, the air leaving her body in a tidal wave. When she opened her eyes again, she couldn’t help but feel like a toddler, one who had, for the first time, realized that the world was dark and dangerous. There was so much she wanted to say. So much that she wanted to ask. All of it, however, was inconsequential to the question that she whispered in the evening air.

  “Was she in pain?”

  Old Asa sighed, using one of her gnarled hands to wipe a tear off Andy's blotchy cheek. “I don't know.” Andy's shoulders furled inwards as her hands tensed in her lap. “Your Salisa is a good healer, she will have done everything she could for the girl.”

  Andy wiped at her eyes, trying to chase away the tears that blurred her vision. “Can I see her?”

  “Not now, hun, the illness needs to be scared off.”

  Old Asa stayed with her the rest of the night, making their way to the table at some point. It would only be years later, when Andy was older, that she would wonder how the old woman had managed it. Her bones must have ached, and the creaky door did nothing to keep out the evening chill. Yet the woman sat there, focusing solely on Andy despite the little girl's endless silence. She said nothing, simply clutching one of Andy's small hands in her own as the child retreated to the depths of her mind. She didn't even notice the warmth of Old Asa's bony hand, simply registering its comforting weight against her palm.

  Old Asa only spoke when the pink of dawn spread across the sky. “I figure it's time to go.”

  Andy blinked up at the woman with eyes that felt like they had been baked in the heat of a mid-summer's day. Her voice was hoarse as she asked, “Now?” The child shuffled on her chair, her heart jumping around in her chest now the dark of night had given way to the truth of what she would have to face.

  “It's the right thing to do, hun. Even if it's scary.”

  “I want to. I just…” The sound of people waking flowed from the street, a quiet chatter filling the air. “Will she look different?”

  Her face would have flooded with a blush at the silly question in any other context but her body was too busy propping up her broken heart to spare blood for such an inconsequential reaction. The blonde had seen deceased people before - had prepared many of them for their final journey to death’s gates. She had grown used to the intricacies of the dead. Cool skin and stiff limbs were familiar. Bloated bodies and oozing liquids no longer fazed her. The markers of the stringless familiar territory. However, the idea of seeing Priya, with her boundless well of energy, still and stiff was enough to make her stomach turn. She didn’t know if she could look at those brown eyes and see nothing but the fog of decay staring back at her.

  Old Asa seemed to see her struggle on her face and she placed a weathered hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Maybe she will, and maybe she won’t, but I do know that you’ll regret forgoing the chance to say goodbye.”

  Andy let the words wash over her, focusing on the way her skin paled as her hands curled into fists. She knew that the elderly woman was right, but that didn’t change the fact that she wanted nothing more than to run back to Etika grove, climb the highest tree she could find, and never come back down. Still, with a grit of her teeth, she stood, the chair screeching at the movement, and followed Old Asa out into the street.

  ~~~

  The path to the Vada household was one that Andy knew well. She was certain that she could navigate to it from anywhere within the kingdom. That day, though, amidst the bustle of the dawn, she felt like a stranger. The scent of breakfast being prepared didn't entice her, and she hardly glanced at the flea-bitten cats that she adored. None of it mattered to her. She felt like one of the stringbearer’s servants, coming to collect the dead, and it left her stomach turning.

  Salisa was waiting for them when they turned the bend to the Vada house. She was thin-lipped and straight-backed. The only sign of what must have been endless nights caring for the ill was the gray patches beneath her eyes and the paleness of her skin. She said nothing as the pair came to stand before her.

  “The fever has passed.” Old Asa's voice was strong despite her age, commanding in a way that could not be taught.

  “Jesper's fever broke a few hours ago. It was good news after,” she glanced down at Andy's sullen form, “everything.”

  “To only have three fall ill is extremely lucky. And only one death. Your efforts are commendable, Healer Salisa.” Old Asa dipped her head.

  Salisa returned the gesture. “It has been a grueling week. Jesper remains unconscious for now.”

  “He is young and strong. He will wake soon.”

  Andy squeezed the old woman's hand as she spoke. Priya had been young and strong too. She was always the first to climb a tree and was one of the strongest swimmers among the children of Bluewater. So, why hadn't she survived? What was so different about her?

  “Can I see her?”

  Salisa looked down, her lips pinched together.

  “Surely the danger has passed now, if Jesper is on the mend.” Old Asa raised her chin, stubborn like a goat refusing to leave its young.

  Salisa inclined her head in acknowledgement. Clasping her hands in front of her, she nodded her approval. “You can help me dress her for the burial.”

  “So soon?” Old Asa tilted her head quizzically.

  “The village will be nervous if we leave it for too long. She is to be buried at dusk.”

  Old Asa nodded, gently squeezing Andy's hand as she turned to look at the girl. “You ought to go on then.”

  Andy grasped at her skirts. “Will you be at the funeral?”

  Old Asa nodded. “I wouldn't miss it.”

  ~~~

  Despite finally being allowed entry into the house, it was a couple of hours before Andy was permitted to see her friend. The family wanted as much time as possible with her before she was prepared for the burial. So, Andy at in a corner, shrouded in shadows like a fallen rag left to molder into the floor. She could hear Brennan babbling, blissfully unaware of the irreversible change occurring within their family. TiVada's wails echoed around her until the early hours of the afternoon. The oldest child, Marcus, walked between the rooms like a phantom. Andy watched him repeatedly enter and leave the area where Priya's body was placed. His eyes looked glassy and his arms swung at his sides as if they were weighed down by an immeasurable force.

  Salisa came for her sometime in the afternoon. Andy had been given an apple, but she couldn't eat more than a bite or two. It tasted like ash in her mouth. She was absently rolling it back and forth on the floor when the dust-coated hem of Salisa's dress entered her line of sight. Her neck cracked as she looked up. She gazed into her mentor's eyes, her heart rate picking up.

  “You can see her now.”

  Andy nodded and steadied herself on the wall as she slowly clambered to her feet. She brushed the grime off of her dress, more to occupy her hands than anything else. Her throat felt dry, and her palms were sweating. She felt like she had been overtaken in the current that she and Priya spent the summer days playing in.

  Salisa turned, the thin cotton of her dress swishing against her legs.

  The creak of the door as it opened haunted Andy for the rest of her life. It came to her at the oddest of times. While cooking dinner with friends, discussing plans to evade authorities, and even while she played with her grandchildren. What was behind the door was worse though. Priya lay there, her dark hair crowning her face, still and serene in death's hold. She was beautiful in a sickening sort of way, like the fairies that slept in blossoms in the stories they were told when they were younger. There were signs of the battle she had faced as well. A sheen of sweat had dried on her forehead, and her fingers had started to stiffen at her side.

  Stepping into the room felt wrong, as if she was encroaching on a private moment both too sacred and too horrible for her to lay witness to. Her footsteps were light as she made her way to her friend's side, as if this was a sleepover, and she was worried about waking her friend up. This wasn't a sleepover, though. This was the end - of everything - and her throat swelled at the thought.

  The feeling of Priya’s cold form felt odd beneath her hands. She remembered a soft beating heart and a lilting laugh. To see her friend so still was sickening. Despite having dealt with death numerous times before, she went through the process of preparing the young girl for burial like a new apprentice - stiff-limbed and wide-eyed.

  She had brushed Priya’s hair hundreds of times before, yet her hands shook violently as she tried to run the brush through the curly black locks one final time. The lack of reaction to the brushstrokes stung all the more. She remembered putting flowers in these raven locks, giggling away with Priya as they played in the grass. This, however, was like dressing a doll. There were multiple times when she pulled on her friend's hair, and opened her mouth to apologize, only to realize with a nauseating swoop of her stomach that Priya wasn't able to feel the tugging on her scalp. A part of her wanted to leave the room immediately, and another part of her wanted to never let her friend go. Her eyes scurried away from the dead girl’s form every couple of seconds, the sight weighing heavily on her soul.

  The dress they placed Priya in was one she knew well. The faded pink fabric had gained the large grass stain along the hem from them rolling down a hill when they were younger. It was too small for Priya now, the edge dangling just below her knees, but it was the best dress she had. It still suited her, though, as if the dress had adopted her friend’s energy in death. The faded color highlighted what warmth remained in Priya’s tan skin.

  Finally, they laid her back down, and Salisa gently folded the dead girl’s hands on top of her chest. The older woman glanced up at her apprentice. “I’ll go see if everything is ready for the burial. I’m sure someone has picked some flowers to bury her with.”

  Andy didn’t respond, her eyes frozen on Priya’s still face. She hardly noticed as the healer left the room. Silence stretched before her, the sound of her breath sounding much too loud to her ears. Her limbs felt heavy, and it was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat. She wiped at her eyes, hoping to stem the flow of tears before they started. She felt so small in the room. Slowly, she lowered herself to the floor and lay beside her friend. Priya's body provided no warmth, and the calming melody of her breathing had disappeared. Still, Andy drew some level of comfort at bring able to lie at her friend's side one last time.

  “Priya?” She reached forward to touch her friend’s fingers, used to years of snuggling up close together beneath the sun’s warm rays. The silence that followed her call made tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Priya?” She tried again. “You look so pretty in your dress. I know it was your favorite.” She thumbed the worn sleeve, memorizing the feel of the fabric. A small, bitter smile tried to stretch across her face but was squashed by a wave of grief. “I’m going to miss you. I-”, she wiped her eyes again, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I wanted to, I really did.” The sound of Salisa’s footsteps rang through the thin walls. A part of her panicked, wanting to stay here with Priya forever. It was too soon for her to be taken away. Her fingers curled into Priya's dress as she buried her face in her best friend's shoulder. She inhaled, taking in the sweet scent of grass and dirt that would follow Priya even into death’s grasp. The breath steadied her, and she leaned forward and kissed her friend’s cold cheek. “I’ll remember you always. Promise.”

  ~~~

  The funeral was small. Bethany helped her mother up the small hill where Andy's oldest friend was to be buried. The Vada family that was healthy enough clung to each other as Priya was lowered into the ground, a bouquet of pink flowers in her hands. Their faces were shrouded in the golds and reds of the evening sky. Andy stood by Salisa, off to the side, to give the Vada family a few extra moments with their beloved child. All but Salisa were crying. Her mentor stood with the stiff vigilance that defined her. Clasped hands and a raised chin. The only sign of her emotions was the white of her knuckles. Still, Andy clung to the yellow fabric of her dress, desperate for any comfort she could get. Her eyes, though, were trained on Priya, drinking her in for those few final moments. It wasn't quite the Priya she remembered, her still form nothing like the boundless energy she knew, and it hurt to look at the still girl devoid of spirit. Still, she knew even then that she would regret it if she didn't look. It was painful, but the Andy of later years thanked the young girl immensely for her strength.

  The days and weeks that followed were unlike any Andy had known before. The entire community felt the effects of Priya's death. She had been a bright spot in the drab reality that Bluewater provided. Her charming smile and harmless mischief had provided a much-needed distraction from the struggles of day-to-day life. Over the coming weeks, many offerings found their way to the Vada's small home. They were small, made from what little people could spare. Some buns from the Rienes family, a few faded fabric squares from TiDoil, some wood gathered for the hearth.

  Even the feral cats that Andy and Priya had spent countless hours trying to befriend noticed the loss. One day, TiVada almost tripped over a dead rabbit on her stoop. Its meat made a delicious stew that TiVada invited Salisa and Andy to share. The meat was juicy and warm, a decedent meal stewed in herbs that made the small room smell divine. Still, Priya was missed. There were pauses in the conversation where everyone expected the young girl to jump in, only to realize that she wasn't there. The few moments of laughter, still weak from grief, felt wrong without her lilting laugh joining in. Andy couldn't help but find herself looking out the window at the rat-infested streets of their youth as the meal went on, waiting with bated breath for Priya to pop over the windowsill and declare that it was all some silly prank. That instinct would follow her for years to come, long after she had left Bluewater behind.

  Some days it was painful and others it provided her with sorely needed strength. Either way, it kept Priya with her long after the exact shade of her eyes or tilt of her smile faded from memory. Andy nurtured the habit with a great deal of care, in the hopes that one day, when her own string was cut, she would be able to look out the window and see her friend waiting for her there.