Chapter 29 - A House of Memories

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All was dark and all was quiet.

Many people in Harmindon went to bed later during the summer months, to make the most of the cool night air, but it was now so late that the streets were silent, and no light was seen in any windows save for a tiny cottage on the outskirts of the city.

Talia hadn't moved from her position at the window in over an hour, squinting out at the blackness. The flickering candlelight came from the table in the far corner of the room - her workspace, with a pile of unfinished sewing draped hastily across it.

Every so often her eyes would wander from the window.

Jeddah sat at the fireplace, curled into a little ball, and at a glance one might believe she was asleep - but her eyes were wide open, reflecting the candlelight as she stared at her mother - almost worried. It was an expression that was too old for a child aged just eight years. The only movement she made was her already steady fingers picking deftly at the frayed strands of the dyed rag rug. Another time Talia might have scolded her for this - but she knew Jeddah was as tense as she was, and understood her impatience completely.

In Talia's arms lay baby Miarka. She seemed so deceptively fragile and angelic in sleep - at only several weeks old, she was a lively baby, and Talia often had no time to think during the day, with Miarka's demands to be fed and changed and mostly just cheerful screeching for no reason at all, as though surprised she had lungs and was determined to use them. Jeddah was such a darling, often keeping an eye on the baby while her mother went to the market - but now, Miarka lay there, so still, lips pursed and little fingers twitching slightly. Who knew what such a small baby dreamed about?

Talia looked back out the window.

Every now and then a slight breeze floated through the window, and she took the opportunity to shiver every time.

Time passed - a long time passed - and the door opened.

Talia was known for her observance. It was one of the reasons why she was so good at noticing tiny flaws in material, the slightest stitch out of place. But it did not take her skill to notice how absolutely awful Adja looked.

He was breathing heavily, as though he'd run a long distance, but had slowed down just before entering so that he wouldn't wake his family. Dark circles around his bloodshot eyes meant he hadn't slept for days, and there was a deep-rooted fear in his beautiful dark eyes that made Talia shiver again, though there was no wind.

Underneath all the exhaustion was the same tall, handsome man Talia knew so well, and she forced back tears with an effort.

She saw him stand in the doorway, looking at the three of them sitting silently waiting for him. Jeddah sat frozen on her mat, looking fearfully at her father. Nobody had told her anything, but she was old enough to tell something was wrong.

"Jeddah," Talia said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice sounded overly loud in the gloom - the candle finally guttered and went out.

"Good night, my darling."

Jeddah understood at once and made herself scarce, taking Miarka with her. They heard her singing softly to her little sister in the other room, the rustle as she pulled a blanket over her skinny little body and eventually, heavy breathing.

Then Talia began to cough.

She did so as discreetly as possible, pressing her hand over her mouth - but once she'd begun, she couldn't stop. The coughs shook her entire body, and tears streamed down her face as she clutched her chest. Every breath she took was shorter - and the next instant, she was in her husband's arms. She must have blacked out.

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