9
Effie
Effie watched King’s back retreat into the snowy woods. Even in heavy camouflage, his rifle at his side, it was clear to see the V-shaped outline of his body.
“How late will you be?” she’d asked as he pulled on his boots.
“However long it takes to find us some dinner.”
“Don’t shoot any rabbits,” she’d said, and looked at him pointedly.
King had rolled his eyes at her, but she could tell in his expression that he knew better. She had to admit that it was getting old eating nothing but canned food and the last of the perishable items going bad in the cupboards. She’d dreamt of a roasted fowl dinner the night before and her mouth watered at the idea.
When she couldn’t see him any longer, Effie sighed and pulled out her phone. King had left it charging in the hallway, but she’d
