The soldiers are marching again, with the heavy sound of drums quick to follow.
Everyone in the town who knows what is coming stays silent and tries to hide, praying that they won't stop here, in Woodson.
And it's every week now that they pick a new...
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After finding a secure spot in a small clearing, the boys set up tents given to us by Darrell, while I gather sticks for the fire.
It is getting dark quickly, and we are stopping for the night.
By the flatter landscape of the ground, I assume that we are headed further East, away from both the plains of Woodson and Addison Town. Despite the warmer weather here, I miss home, and I wonder about how my father is doing there.
I hope he is okay.
I do not wish him any worry or guilt that his children went off to fight in this war while he sits up waiting at home. If it came down to it, I would die for him or my brother any day.
But besides that, I also don't want my father to retreat into a dark place because of what has been done. I remember the time he mourned my mother, who was incapable of leaving her bed, in her late days of being sick. He locked himself in his room for days, not eating. Andres also tried to isolate himself, and wouldn't talk to me.
I was the only one who would visit her sick beside, her face wan and yellow. I didn't care if I could catch the disease, although, in hindsight, it seems as if I were immune. It was my mother who told me that Andres and my dad needed me to love them in replace of her, because she didn't think she was going to make it.
Your love will be enough, darling. It has to be.
My breath is taken away from me simply remembering the look in her eyes as she said those words. I have to sit down on a rock to steady myself. Like my brother and I, my mother's eyes were baby blue - her most distinct feature. My father used to tell me I was identical to her as a child. And my mother told me to look after my brother on her deathbed, so that is what I intend to do.
She would have done the same for anybody else. If Andres were older, he would have done the same for me.
Sitting down for a moment of solitude, I drop the dry fire sticks I've been collecting and run my hands gently across the jagged stones I'm resting on, tracing the long cracks and ridges beneath my fingers.
How long have they been here? How long did it take for them to become broken?
One, two, three fissures I count.
Everything has it's time, Adeline. Don't be sad.
"You alright?"
Lifting my head up from my view of stone amongst grass patches, Camillo emerges from behind the trees.
"Yes" I say, getting up. I try to hide the emotions written on my face with difficulty. "Why are you here?"
If he sees any trace of my sadness across my face, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he says something else, hands in his pockets.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted you in the middle of something. I was sent to come get you. I don't think you're brother's feeling very well..."
A million thoughts run through my head. What does he mean Andres is not feeling well? I thought he was helping them set up the tents?
