Winter Light

Larsson came over, “Where’d you get that blanket, son?”

Not more than four, he pointed behind us, off towards the shore. Larsson moved in closer.

“Son, I am afraid we’re going to have to—”

Thea held a hand up in Larsson’s direction. “Does it keep you warm?” She went down on a knee.

He nodded. “It will keep my brother warm too, when he gets here.”

“And he will,” the heiress exclaimed, her smile wide in the firelight. “He will.”


 





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