“Come on, now. We’re late.” The sun had set much sooner than Theo would have liked, and the forest was blanketed in the all-encompassing night.
The journey home, under a myriad of brilliant stars, would have been almost bearable if it hadn’t been for the wind. Strong and fierce, the steady gusts had persisted all day and only worsened as the evening progressed. Theo shifted the heavy crate in his arms and glanced over his shoulder.
  “Don’t worry about Ruthie. She knows her way home.” Theo muttered as he watched his brother attempt to speed up the dog’s pace. Cal adored Ruthie and hated to leave her side, but under Theo’s impatient gaze, he reluctantly trotted ahead. There was something disquieting in Theo’s eyes, a frightened urgency that Cal had never seen before.
To the right, the river whispered strange secrets in the dark. Above, the trees hummed a mournful tune. And all around, there was life in the forest. For several minutes, the world was hushed, before a small voice spoke. 
“Theo?” Cal said, shivering from the cold.
“Yeah.”
“Is Dad gonna be angry?” Cal slowed his gait, glancing up at his brother.
“Hey, keep up with me, now.” Theo warned. “Don’t fall behind.”
Was Dad gonna be angry? Theo looked down at the crate he carried. Most of the fruit was rotten. There hadn’t been much left on the trees. This week would be a challenge, but next time they would be luckier. They would have to be luckier.
“Theo?”
“Yeah.” He answered after a pause.
“Is Dad gonna hurt you again?”
And suddenly, Theo could feel the bruises up and down his arms. The welt on his cheek. The blood as it dripped from his nose. Suddenly, it was that night again. And Dad was coming at him, fists raised, because the dog’s paws were muddy and the hen hadn’t laid enough eggs and there wasn’t enough to eat and there was too much to be afraid of.
“I don’t know, bud. We just gotta get home, okay?” How could a word like “home” taste so strange, so forced?
“Why do we have to go back? Why can’t we live out here? Just you and me and Ruthie.” Cal said, because he was still young and he didn’t understand.
“Aw, come on, Cal. You know why. It isn’t safe out here.” Did that mean it was safe at home?
“Theo?”
Theo sighed.
“Yeah.”
Cal grew quiet, so quiet that Theo wondered if his question had been lost in the howling wind.
A light glowed in the distance.
“Do you ever miss Mom?” Cal asked.
Theo’s breath caught in his throat. He still saw her, all the time. She was in Cal’s sprightly smile and in the moon’s reflection on the river and in the sunlight that crept through the canopy of trees above. She was in the stars every night as he waited to fall asleep and in his mind as he dreamed and in his heart, always. Yes, he missed Mom. Of course he missed Mom.
But Theo never got a chance to answer Cal’s question.
The cold air grew warmer and thicker and heavier. The silence was filled with popping and crackling and screaming. And soon, the air was only smoke. Because the light that had glowed in the distance wasn’t just a light, it was a fire. And Theo and Cal didn’t have time to wonder where Ruthie had gone or if Dad was okay or who had screamed or why. They dropped their jaws and they dropped their crates and the fire was upon them.