“MAMAAAA!” I lurch to my feet out of a straight sleep when I hear my son’s voice calling to me. Edgar next to me shudders awake, though he manages to stay in bed.
“What’s happening?” He murmurs, staring around bleerily.
“They’re back,” I say, pulling a blanket around my shoulders and ducking out the door.
From my vantage on the cabin’s short deck I see three figures walking in from the forest. I squint my eyes, trying to make out details. Disheveled, their t-shirts ripped – mud on their pants and boots – tiny scratches everywhere – and huge smiles on their faces.
I exhale a big breath. They’re okay. They’re happy.
“Boys!” I call, raising a hand to wave to them. At the sound of my voice, the boys start to run to me, though I can tell by their pace that they’re bone tired. I laugh
