here for some reason? Seemed odd and . . . disturbing. Like she’d stumbled upon the school’s version of solitary confinement. Stop letting your imagination run away with you, she admonished herself as she turned back toward the stairs. They’re probably just storage rooms.
She made her way quickly through the piles of boxes and what looked mostly like junk. She’d have to make arrangements to have this hauled away once demo started on the house. As she was about to turn the corner and head up the stairs, she spotted something in the corner to her left. Could it be . . . she yanked the white sheet covering the object and let it drift to the floor, waving her hand to disperse the cloud of dust that had covered it. Just as she’d thought, a birdcage! How perfect. Haddie would love it, and it’d be a place she could safely set her little patient while the baby bird—she hoped—recovered.
She picked it up by the base and carried it up the stairs. She stopped in the kitchen to wipe the cage down, admiring the beautiful scrollwork of the bars. Scarlett didn’t necessarily love the idea of birds in cages, but for their temporary purposes, it would work nicely. And they’d leave the door propped open as a sign of their abiding belief that beautiful, feathered things should not be locked away, unable to fly as God intended.
She took it to their attic room where Haddie sat on the floor, her stuffed animals in a circle, the box holding the injured baby bird directly in front of her. Scarlett set the cage down and grinned at Haddie. “Look what I found in the basement. A recovery hospital for our little patient.”
Haddie stared at the cage for a moment, her eyes widening momentarily as her forehead creased in a frown. Her gaze moved to Scarlett, her lips parting slightly as though she was about to say something, but changed her mind. Haddie’s expression was so . . . strange.
Confused, Scarlett looked from the birdcage to Haddie. “We can leave the door open, baby. I just thought it would be a good temporary home. He’ll be right at your eye level and you can check on him easily . . .”
Haddie picked up the baby bird gently from the box, cradling him against her chest. She turned her shoulder outward as if . . . shielding him. Haddie moved her eyes to the cage, that same peculiar look on her face as she shook her head. “No,” she asserted. “I’ll just keep him with me.”
“Are you sure?” Scarlett glanced at the cage, wondering if it appeared scary for some reason to her daughter. “It’s perfectly—”
“No.” She lowered her face. “No, thank you,” she whispered.
Scarlett paused. Haddie was . . . Haddie, but all kids got strange ideas in their heads sometimes. She supposed the cage might look sort of imposing, especially to such a small girl. “Okay, then. I’ll just put it back.”
Haddie nodded, laying the baby bird back in the box.
“How’s he eating?”
“Good,” Haddie said, using a finger to smooth the downy fluff on the top of his head. Scarlett had looked online and found that softened dog food or well-mashed hard-boiled eggs could be fed to orphaned baby birds, so she’d prepared the eggs. If the little guy was eating well, it gave her even more hope that he’d survive. “How about you get all your friends ready for bed,” she said, smiling around at the circle of—primarily—fur-filled, non-egg-eating pals.
“Okay, Mommy,” Haddie said, shooting the cage one last wary glance. Scarlett picked up the apparently offensive piece of furniture and set it outside their room, shutting the door on it.
Half an hour later, Haddie was snuggled up in her bed, the baby bird next to her on the bedside table. Scarlett sat down on the bed and pulled the blanket to her chin. She stroked her daughter’s silken hair and leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” she murmured just as a loud creak sounded from a floor below. Haddie’s eyes widened. “It’s okay,” she said, smoothing Haddie’s hair back calmly even as her pulse quickened. “It’s an old house. There are going to be lots of creaks.”
“I think it’s waking up, Mommy,” she whispered, but there was no fear in her voice.
Scarlett’s gaze moved over her daughter’s features. “I suppose even houses sleep sometimes if they’re left all alone.”
“Yes,” Haddie agreed. “They do.” She yawned, turning toward where