Regret Came Too Late

Outside, the snow kept falling. In the distance, the landscape was nothing but rubble, and beyond that, an endless stretch of bleak gray sky.

Ethan's fingers stayed locked with hers; the heat of his skin was a smoldering presence she couldn't ignore.

Grace didn't have it in her to be cruel-not when he asked so quietly to just be allowed this.

The minutes dragged painfully, and his fever only worsened.

Eventually, she couldn't sit still any longer. She reached for the bottle of water, ready to coax him into drinking again.

His eyes fluttered open-glazed, foggy, as if he wasn't sure where he was.

"Mr. Bennett's gone, Mr. Henderson. Let's head back first. Even if there's no medicine, lying down will be better than staying here," she reasoned.

Instead of responding, Ethan slowly dragged his tie, his movements sluggish from the fever.

Grace quickly pressed her hand against his chest to stop him and re-fastened the tie.

Normally, he was all sharp lines and strict precision, never leaving a button undone.

Grace lowered her eyes, fingers deftly tying the knot. She decided she wouldn't wait for Tim anymore-she would get Ethan back herself.

Just then, Ethan's scalding hand closed over hers.

"We're not going back," he rasped, his voice wrecked by the fever. "There are magnolias nearby... did you know?"

Grace had no clue where they were, only realizing more and more that he was completely out of it.

want to see them, I'll go pick some

his eyes lit up instantly, hope flashing through the fevered

"What?" he said, surprised.

disbelief-seriously?

"Mr. Henderson..."

he suddenly dropped

find it,"

profile-his damp hair clung to his forehead; even the corners

in a slow breath, pushed open the car door, and said, "I'll look. But if I can't find any in ten minutes, I'm

eyes half-closed, he gave a faint, weary smile as he hummed a soft reply. The snow

step Grace took crunched

but after a

the car and tapped lightly on the

rolled it down. His face was still flushed with the fever, and

a bit

look at him

heart of winter, he looked like some feral, red-draped spirit-fragile,

even have to speak; somehow, he made her want to do

feel pity for

for a response, she marched

didn't exist. However, after ten minutes of wading through the. snow there it was-a flash of crimson nestled

They burned bright against the ghostly white of the

blinked in disbelief before stepping

the delicate bloom, a rush of fragmented memories

cave, two children clung to each other

glanced around, then moved

65 feet, she spotted