A harsh wind beat against the door, like a desperate man in the night. I could hear it howling and whispering between the cracks. The noise would creep and crawl around my ears as I was unable to sleep.

  “Is anyone there?” I'd occasionally whisper out loud. Truly hoping no one, outside my sleeping siblings, would answer. In this cramped room we shared I was always the only one awake during the dead of night. Always thinking about any and everything that crossed my mind. Every thought led off into another, that led to another. Until my eyes became so heavy they refused to open again and I could finally sleep.

  This night had been no different, until I heard a small knock on the door. Quickly hiding under the covers I'd hoped the ghost stories Corbin kept telling weren't actually real. I could hear the door slowly creak open as a chilly air swept in. Making me shiver so harshly I'd thought I'd die of the cold, rather than what may be lurking about.

  “Are you awake Wrenly girl?” My father whispered in a tired voice. Just now getting back from a week's trip away.

  “Yes father.” I whispered back, finally peeking my head from underneath the covers.

  “Can you sleep?” He asked. I shook my head.

  “Come on then, I may have something to make you sleepy.” He said, waving me forward. Carefully getting up I tiptoed around Aspen and Corbin, just thankful Rune was sleeping with mother. If that crybaby woke them they'd surely want a piece of what father had brung home. Which usually was a sort of snack and sweets too expensive to normally get.

  Sitting by myself at the table, I watched as father struck a fire in the furnace. My stomach grumbled at whatever warm goody he had planned. But whatever it was he had to make it quick, or mothers would wake up from the smoke. Her noise is so sensitive since the better half of the house was burned down last spring.

  Watching him he dug around in his old sack for a bag. It was riddled with holes, and nearly all his tools could fall out. He took out a small jar, filled with a white liquid I'd hardly ever seen before.

  “What's that? I asked, leaning over the table for a closer look.

  “Milk.” He said sharply, trying to quietly squeeze one of the better dented pots from mothers shelf.

  “Milk? Sounds gross if you asked me.” My face turned sour at the word that didn't sound right to me.

  He turned to me, I could finally see his face against the glow of the fire. At times he'd be gone so Long I was sure I'd forget what he looked like, till he showed up again and the worry was gone for the time he was back. “Oh but it's not, it's quite nice warmed up with oats, although I gave my last to the horse.”

  “How do you even get this, milk? Does it come from a tree, an animal? Is it something expensive? And am I going to have to share with Corbin and Aspen, because they always call dibs and —” My voice grew louder as I talked without thinking. And father promptly shushed me as we heard what might have been the sound of someone awaking. Holding our breath till we sighed as the noise stopped.

  “For someone who doesn't want to share you seem keen on waking the whole house. And milk doesn't come from plant's, it comes from cows, it's what their young drink to get nice and strong. Mrs.Mala has plenty in the village next over.”

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  “Is it like the milk mother gives Rune?” I asked, and he paused for a moment. His face caught between not knowing what to say, and not knowing how it would sound.

  “Well, yes.”

  “So if milk is so delicious why don't we just use mother's—”

  “How about you go sit near the furnace.” he interrupted, it was his way of telling me I was asking about something he'd rather not answer. More out of embarrassment than one not really knowing. Hoping down I sat myself with my back to the furnace. The warmth of the heat itself was almost enough to make me sleepy. Watching as father poured some of the milk and stirred it gently. And when he would stop after a while little white bubbles began to form at the top.

  He'd say, “Oh shit,” before hurriedly taking the pot off the stove. Letting the milk settle again before putting it back. “Don't tell your mother.”

  I laughed to myself as he took out two cups, filling them almost up. The warm milk swirled around in the cup and felt lovely in my hands. Sniffing it as I raised it to my lips I felt an instant warmth surge through my body as I drank it.

  “How is it?” Father asked, taking a sip from his own cup. I finished the whole cup in a second before I could answer.

  “It's so good. Can I get just a little more, please?”

  “Mayber later, everyone else needs to get some too right?”

  “Right.” I sighed.

  “Atta girl, come and sit with me.” He patted his lap. Making my way over I could tell something sat heavy on his mind. His eyebrows furrowed as he rubbed his neck. His rough hands rested on my shoulder as he held me close. I knew better than to ask about what it was that was bothering him. Or else he'd swear it was nothing, realizing how much his worries showed up on his face.

  “You love this family, don't you. Even when we have struggled so much.” The question stunned me. I'd always loved my family without a doubt, even when Corbin would tease me about misspelling a word, or Aspen tricked me when we raced. In fact I never really thought I'd ever feel some other type of way about them.

  “Yes,” I said quietly, unsure of what his question was leading to.

  “Good, because when I was your age, even in all my curiosity like yours, I had to make a choice no boy should ever have to make for his family.”

  “Like what?” I asked, holding tightly onto the table. Wanting nothing more to know about this piece of my father's life that clearly still haunted him. A slit sweat came across his forehead. And even though he fanned himself as if it had been the heat the room was still far too cold.

  “Like sacrificing one of us.” He turned away from me as he said it. His hands trembled against the table. “At some point or another we all have to make a difficult decision, some worse than another's.”

  My heart began pounding. Was this it? Was he going to ask me to sacrifice myself? Surely my father wouldn't be that mad. But the cold glare in his eyes as he turned back to me froze me in place. Too scared to even blink.

  As he looked over my face, his eyes soften, “Wrenly I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you think,” He squeezed me into a hug so tight I thought he wouldn't let go. “Forgive me dear, you're just growing up so fast, and this is a conversation I've had with the others as well.” His eyes twitched as he gave me a light smile. Before I could say anything I'd let out a big yawn and he rushed to put out the fire in the furnace.

  When he came back to the table he knelt down to me, squeezing my hand. “Just know making Those decisions don't mean we love each other any less, okay?”

  I nodded as my yawns kept coming and my eyes felt so heavy they nodded my head toward. Father picked me up, trying to avoid all the creaking boards as he brought me back to my room.

  With a yawn I said, “goodnight father.” He'd kissed me on the forehead as he laid me down. Pulling the covers to my chin so I'd stay warm throughout the night. Starting to drift in and out of sleep I could hear him mumble something. Barely making out anything he said aside from, “don't grow,”. Which could have really meant anything if I didn’t fall asleep the next second to have actually paid attention.