The Survivor by Shelley Shepard Gray

Luckily, it was coming up the same shade as before, a deep brown. Some of her eyebrows had grown back, too.
    When she remembered how hard it had been to deal with her hair loss, Mattie shook her head. Oh, she’d been so vain!
    Or perhaps, she’d simply had enough. She’d lost so much during that time—her independence, her health, her appetite. Losing her hair had seemed terribly cruel.
    Satisfied that her one-inch hair growth would soon be two, she carefully replaced her kapp .
    And then she unpinned her dress and looked at herself.
    Her mother had warned her against looking at her chest, saying concentrating on her scars would be wrong. But privately, Mattie figured their Lord God had created both men and women the best way He knew how. Surely she was allowed to sometimes be sad that she was now very far from His creation?
    Angling the mirror, she winced at the dark red angry scars. The doctors and surgeons had said the lines would fade in time, though Mattie didn’t know if that mattered all that much. No matter what, she wouldn’t be the same. She’d be forever marked. And forever reminded that the future was never certain.
    “Mattie?” her mother called out. “You’ve got company.”
    “I’ll be right there,” she said from her side of the door, then hastily slipped the mirror in between her mattress and bedsprings and took care to pin her dress up again.
    Just so.
    When she walked down the hall, her pace slowed. “Lucy? What are you doing here?”
    “Trying to keep you company, you goose,” she teased.
    “I thought you were going to stay home and clean out the linen closet with your mother-in-law.”
    “I was going to. But then Mary left with Katie and I was all alone. And then, well, I had to stop.”
    “Why? Did you start to feel bad?”
    “Not at all. I started to think there was nothing worse than sitting in an empty room and sorting out old sheets! But look what I did.”
    Mattie grinned as Lucy displayed at least forty neat squares of fabric. “And what are these for?”
    “I thought we could make some circle quilts. What do you say?”
    “I say that it’s been at least four years since I’ve made one.” Mattie bit her lip. “I’m not even sure I remember how to make them,” she added. Actually, the last thing in the world she wanted to do was quilt. But how could she tell Lucy that?
    “Really? We used to love to make circle quilts. And they’re so easy, too.” Her voice turned anxious. “Remember how easy it is to gather the circles and then piece them together?”
    For a moment, Mattie was tempted to continue the charade for just a little longer, then she noticed that the skin around Lucy’s lips was a bit strained. Crossing the room, she took a seat on the sofa cushion next to Lucy then held out her hands. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Lucy?”
    She looked away. “Oh, it’s nothing.” But unbidden, her lip started to tremble.
    “Luce? Are you hurt? Is something wrong with Calvin?”
    After a brief pause, Lucy nodded, then two twin tears rolled down her face, followed by a loud sob. With a gasp, she pushed a fist to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
    Mattie hugged her close. “Is Calvin sick?”
    “ Nee . We g-got in a f-fight!”
    Startled by the admission, Mattie pulled away. “Truly? What happened?”
    “He got upset with me.”
    “Over what?”
    The tears started coming again. Just as another knock was heard at the door.
    After one quick glance their way, Mattie’s mom opened the door. “Calvin! Hello.”
    “Mrs. Lapp. Good afternoon.”
    “And the same to you.”
    He nodded, looking uncomfortable.
    With a curious look Mattie’s way, her mom said, “Did you need something?”
    He pulled off his hat and looked across the room toward Lucy. In response, Lucy covered her face with her hands.
    Alarmed, Mattie stood up to shield her cousin. “Calvin, perhaps you could come back in a bit?”
    “ Nee. I need to see my frau .” He stepped inside without