122

There’s no way to say this gently. You deliberately stay silent for a few seconds, and look the girl in the eye. You can see her steeling herself for the worst, but she is still visibly shaken when you finally say “I saw a destroyed carriage. It went off the path.” She shudders, but doesn’t lose her composure.

“Take me there.” she says before her voice breaks. You nod, and the two of you set out back the way you came. Neither of you speaks all the way long.

As you near the crash site you can almost feel for yourself the growing fear in the girl. You can’t stare at her and observe her, but you can feel in her step, in her breathing, and every now and then when you chance a glance at her, you’ll see part of her face and neck twitch slightly, barely betraying the churning despair underneath. Only when you arrive upon the tell-tale skid-marks does she once whimper. But nothing comes out of her when she looks over the edge. She stands there bent forward, looking down at the wreckage.

Finally you break the silence, “Are you sure that’s your father’s carriage?”

“He’s the only one who owns land up on the plateau, who else could it be?” she answers. There’s no emotion in her voice. The urgency that had her running after you when you walked by her farm, and nearly had her in tears has gone.

Standing awkwardly behind her, you consider your options. What does she expect of you now, if anything? What will she do without her family? How will she run her farm? Should you try to help?

To offer assistance recovering the bodies, turn to 22. To get on your way again, turn to 31.