Father looked up at me with tears glistening in his eyes. “We have to.”
I thought my heart would break with grief as I saw the sorrow in his eyes. He'd expected to die in this house, too. “What if we stay now, and I promise to go alone when the time is right? There's no need for you to make this journey.”
Father let out a ragged breath.
Was that a glimmer of hope in his eyes? Had I stumbled onto the answer to his pain?
He shook his head. “No. I can't allow that. I need to see you home. Only then will I know you'll be safe. Then I can rest.”
I nodded and patted the top of his hand. I would probably feel the same way if I had children. He’d see me to my eternal home, and I’d see him to his.
My eyes surveyed my parents' bedroom, desperate to remember every single detail. One of mother's many quilts was placed across the end of the bed and another on the back of her knitting chair, next to the fireplace. Mother had loved that chair and enjoyed listening to me read aloud while she did her sewing. Father's Bible sat on his bedside table with one of mother's ribbons peeking out from the top. In less than a full day, the quilts would be tucked around his legs and the Bible placed in the wagon beside him for the long journey.
I would miss this room. It held a lot of wonderful memories. Every evening, before bed, Mother and I would spend our time together, brushing each other's hair. If we weren't talking, she was singing a beautiful tune in her luxurious alto voice. I’d relished that memory every night since she passed away. I missed her so much—the grief felt like a real illness, but there was no cure.
“All will be fine, Rapunzel.” He turned his hand over and squeezed mine. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away before they fell.
It had been so hard when Mother passed away, but it would be harder when Father went. I would be alone.
“I've lived longer than I could have hoped for, my darling.” He touched my cheek and smiled.
Such a wonderful man. So thoughtful and kind. There was nothing I wouldn’t give to curl up in bed and listen to one of his adventure stories before I drifted off to sleep, Mother stroking my cheek the entire time.
Oh, those stories. I smiled. When Father was a boy, he fought off a pack of wolves with nothing more than a torch, and protected his fortress with his mighty sword. Exploring the hidden chambers behind the castle walls were his most rewarding adventures. Were they true? Or just made up tales to impress a sleepy little girl? Either way, they were now my memories.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. The drivers were likely ready to head out on the long journey to a fairy-tale castle.
Father and I looked at each other. He held my gaze, imploring me to accept—no, embrace—the future. I nodded as the sadness turned to confidence. We still had each other. For now.
He gave a quick nod.
I smiled softly and nodded my agreement.
The door creaked open, and I spun around ready to chastise the driver who would dare enter a person’s private quarters without so much as a knock.
I gasped in horror. The silhouette of my worst nightmare filled the doorway.
The witch.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My hands balled into fists at my sides. Anger like none I’d ever felt before boiled up inside me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. What business did she have with my father? How dare she burst in here? Wait—would she try to stop us from leaving? Why had that thought never occurred to me? Or to Father?
Before she had a chance to answer, I found my voice. “Get out!” I said. “Get out!” She didn't move. She stood in the doorway looking blameless and not a bit like the wicked witch I knew she was.
My pulse pounded in my ears. How dare she set foot in our home.
“Rapunzel,” Father said in a soft tone. I barely heard him. “Rapunzel,” Father said again, then reached for my hand.
“Father, what is that witch doing here?” I demanded. “She has no right to be here. She killed Henry and cursed me. I want her out!”
“Rapunzel, darling.” The witch grinned. “It was your father's idea.”
I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. Had she put a curse on Father, as well?
“Father, what is she talking about?” I took his hand in mine. He was so old and so tired. What reason could he have had to bring her here? “Did you take one of her potions? Were you poisoned?” I glared at the witch. That was the only explanation.
Father chuckled and tugged on my arm to keep me still. “Why would she ever have a reason to poison an old man? Gretta and I have come to a mutual understanding.”
How could he have done any such thing with her? Didn't he remember what I had told him about the agreement I had made with her? It was a mistake, and I had never forgiven myself for it. And now here he was making another deal? How long would I have to pay the price for this one? I had but one eternity to offer.