Calm down.
Thick clay walls retained heat, a narrow entrance protected against the wind, and a small stove burned steadily.
It wasn’t comfortable.
But she was safe.
Then she heard it.
A quiet sound.
Knocking.
At first she thought she had imagined it.
But then she heard it again.
It was weak.
Desperackie.
Eleanor took a lantern and walked to the entrance.
When she opened them, an icy wind hit her face.
And there she stood, barely able to stand, Mrs. Langley.
Her face was pale, her lips were blue, and her body was shaking uncontrollably.
“Eleanor…” she whispered.
“Please…”
Eleanor didn’t hesitate for a moment.
She pulled him inside.
The news spread quickly.
Not with words, but with desperation.
They came one after another.
The same ones who laughed.
