A tear. A single, solitary drop of salty water made its way down the bridge of her nose, continuing its journey to the tip, falling as if in slow motion onto the photograph below. A photo of happy people, she reminded herself bitterly. A photo that represented love, faith and trust; a representation of a life that no longer existed. Closing her eyes, the young woman cast the picture into the small fire before her, watching through blurred vision as the flames devoured the snap. Taking another one from the box on her lap, she bit her lip, eyes trained on the people in the picture, all smiling widely. Her sister was laughing, her mother; grinning, and her father looking on with the most content smile adorning his features. She remembered that they had been happy once.

Tucking the piece of paper into the inside pocket of her jacket, she immediately resumed destroying all evidence of their past. Proof that they once drew breath, that she was related to them, could not exist. Breathing deeply, she looked away as she dropped the small box filled with pictures into the fire, abandoning the flaming mass of memories before her as she made her way into her small tent, drying her eyes as she did so.

For she would not show weakness. She would be the model- the epitome- of strength. Of harshness. Of cruelty. She had to be, she reminded herself as she looked at the empty cot to her right.

Had it not been her stupidity, her selfishness that had led them to trouble? Had it not been her fault that they had not moved fast enough to get away, that she had held on with all her might, her own sweaty palms betraying her? Had it not been her, Nim, who had suggested going in the first place?

Getting into her own small bed across the room, the young witch turned off the oil lamps and looked to the other side of the small tent, where, just seventy-two hours ago, a perfect little girl would have been sleeping peacefully. Closing her eyes tightly, the young woman turned to her other side as if refusing to accept the reality of her situation.

Shaking with silent sobs, she attempted to fall asleep.

"Goodnight, Willa. Sweet dreams."

But she knew such things no longer existed.