Leaving Tracks by Victoria Escobar

against the cold to give her some of my warmth while she cried. Some things, I knew, words would never be adequate for. I rocked and only held tighter when her arms came around me and squeezed.
    I would give her this. I could give her this. No one knew better than me.
    The snow grew thicker the longer we sat, but I knew better than to try and move her. Hadley would be ready when Hadley was ready. The only thing I could do was be a good friend. When her hysterical sobbing had ebbed to silent tears, I deemed it okay to speak.
    “It’s starting to snow too hard to be out here,” I murmured quietly into her hair. “And it’s not just sorrow that has you shaking.”
    “I want to go home.” Hadley mumbled against my jacket.
    “Sure,” I said. She didn’t make a fuss about me gathering her into my arms; Hadley only closed her eyes and rested her head against my shoulder close enough to the opening of my jacket that I could feel her breath on my neck. I pretended not to notice the lack of bulk on her right leg. She was entirely too light for my peace of mind. I felt as if I could break her if I squeezed too hard.
    I carried her from the cemetery to the back doors of the skating rink using the building as a shield from the main house. No one looking out any of the windows in the house would see us enter the building. I thought right now, Hadley would just want the privacy of her apartment. If she wanted her sisters, she would have said that. Some of the work areas still had clear angles of the door but I doubted anyone was actually snooping instead of working.
    Hadley said nothing as I climbed the stairs and fumbled with the door. She still didn’t speak as I stepped around the dining room set to the living room to place her onto the fainting couch. Her silence worried me as much as her stillness did.
    She allowed me to removed her coat and shoes, and wrap her in the blanket I pulled from the back of the sofa. I checked the coat pockets for keys and phone before setting it aside and setting the objects on the coffee table in front of her.
    Not satisfied with th e thin lap blanket, I turned the electric fireplace on before going to the bedroom to pull one of the many blankets from her bed. She was still where I had left her and didn’t move from her recline when I covered her with the new blanket too.
    I knelt beside her and studied the new hollowness to her face that hadn’t been there yesterday. Grief could carve even the supplest face into shadows and hard lines. With her eyes closed, her dark lashes accented the tear stained plains. I couldn’t resist and leaned forward to gently kiss her eyes.
    “Hadley.” I leaned back and reached out to gently comb a hand through her hair when she didn’t stir. “Hadley, is there anything I can do?”
    “You’ve done it,” she murmured without opening her eyes. She sounded tired and hollowed. “I’m so tired now.”
    “Of course you are. Get some sleep okay.” I wiped a stray tear away and impulsively bent forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “Your phone is on the coffee table if you need anything.”
    Another tear escaped. “Thank you.”
    I left quietly feeling helpless. I hadn’t wanted to leave her there alone, but I didn’t know what else to do. She wanted, she needed to sleep now. I knew that better than most people.
    With each step I took away from her, I grew angrier instead of calmer. What in the world were they thinking? How could they not say anything?
    With my temper boiling over, I nearly forgot to stomp my boots before knocking briskly and entering Avala’s kitchen.
    Avala’s surprised face did nothing for my anger. “North, is there something you need?”
    “I just carried Hadley from the cemetery to her apartment. Apparently someone forgot to mention her mother died while she was away.” My voice was a hard, cold slap without any physical contact. Avala visibly flinched and staggered over to the bar to lean against it.
    “I…it…we,” she