The Meadow 145 shorter girl doesn’t force her to look up, but she traces her fingers up and down Bridget’s arm at an attempt to encourage her to do so. Bridget looks up. “You don’t need to go anywhere you don’t want to,” Fran finishes. Bridget swallows, the motion hurting her throat due to how tight it felt. “I don’t want to be a bad sister.” “You won’t be.” Bridget inhales sharply. “But-” “You won’t be.” Bridget grits her teeth. They stand there for a moment longer, Bridget pretending her breaths aren’t shuddering, Fran continuing to soothingly run her hands down her arms. The sky slowly bruises into a purple similar in hue to the sash priests wore in Advent around them as the sun continues its descent downward. The warmth has faded from the wind, leaving the cold to pick up, but it is ignorable so long as one is actively moving through it. Some early crickets chirp to each other, braving the cold together to chat. The air still smells sweet, even though the morning dew spicing it up earlier has all been evaporated. It is a good environment to pull herself together in, Bridget thinks. Finally, when her breaths are no longer on the verge of crying or hyperventilating, Bridget takes Fran’s hands from her arms and holds them. “I want...I want to go.” Fran’s face twists in disbelief, but Bridget pushes on. “I just don’t want to let you down. It’s not that I’m- I’m ashamed of you, or-” “I know you’re not ashamed of me,” Fran interjects. Still, Bridget can see the slight relaxation in her composure. “Okay. Good. I just…” Bridget breathes in and out, “I don’t want to let Reyna down either. It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other and I...I miss her.” Fran gives her a half-smile, her single dimple indenting her
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