  It was morning’s like these that called to Nadine. When she woke up and gazed out the bedroom window, passed the skeleton of a shrub that once blossomed in front of her now gently frosted window, the horizon was light up with burning orange and deep pink, streaking through the clouds above. As much as she loved autumn, she especially liked it towards the end, as it melted into winter weather; the winds would blow with a burning touch, rain would threaten every night—though, it’d never be cold enough for actual snow. She couldn’t wait to go out there and be with nature. Nadine slanted Sebastian a glance over her shoulder. She eyed him where he stood—by the stove with his back to her. Today he wore a deep grey t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair was pulled back and damp from his previous shower. A simple hand towel draped over his broad shoulder. She liked that Sebastian insisted on feeding her before he left for work, but hated the fact that he was soon to leave her, all alone . . . Like always.
  Nadine pouted and slumped in her seat at the table. She hated when Sebastian left—hated being alone.
  As the weeks went on with their living arrangements, Nadine was beginning to feel more and more at home. She kept her end of the deal and always did the dishes and helped around the house as much as possible. It wasn’t too hard or complicated. Especially with only two people living in the house. Things were going smoothly. The only part she’d find vexing was the lack of time Sebastian had for her. There’d be times were Nadine wanted to play or watch movies—or go for walks with, but he was always too busy with work; always working on a new project.
  Nadine turned and gazed outside at the lush trees beyond the backyard. The light breeze in the air sent the surface water of the pool dancing. Waves hit the sunlight and sparkled like glitter, leaving Nadine to sigh inwardly. Mesmerized by the scene, as she propped her arm on the table and held her chin.
When Sebastian heard the small noise escape Nadine’s pert nose, he gazed over his shoulder and found her staring out the window. Her soft as silk, fine waves were braided in two plaits with white ribbons tied at the end like Christmas gift bows. Sebastian could imagine with great detail, little Nadine, every night, just before bed, pulling at the ribbons. The smooth silk would easily unravel like a wave of liquid gold. Her braids would untwist from their restraints, and the faintest indents would linger in the chestnut locks. She wore a mustard yellow oversized knitted sweater Sadie had starched away in one of her drawers. One frilly sock stood higher than the other on her delicate ankle. The way she stared longingly, it was evident she couldn’t wait to be out there right now.
  Sebastian instantly remembered the other nights’ events—the dangerous mountain lion that lurked in the woods. When the chocolate chip pancakes he was making for Nadine were done, he turned off the stove and walked the pan over to her plate, serving her two next to her scrambled eggs and strawberry slices.
  She remained where she sat; unmoving; her hand still propping her chin.
  When Sebastian’s brows furrowed in confusion at her action, she said nothing and only gave the pancakes a pointed look, before shifted her gaze to the stainless steel fridge. Her lashes fluttered repeated when she finally looked back at him, still visibly waiting for something.
  When Sebastian caught onto what she was trying to get at, he sighed and shook his head. “Nadine that’s too much sugar for the morning,” he said.
  Her childlike pout returned.
  Sebastian exhaled. Defeatedly, he went over to the fridge and Nadine grinned widely. In an instant, she lit up. Her shoulders pulled back, and she sat up in her seat as Sebastian came back with the Ready Whip in hand. “Can I do it?”
  “No,” he curtly replied.
  “Why not?”
  “Because Nadine.” He’d tried it before; naively handed her the can and turned his back for a mere second as she sprayed a small mountain on everything—the french toast, the fruit, even the eggs. “You can’t be trusted.”
  She wasted no time in picking up her fork and knife and cutting into it. Stuffing her cheeks with the spongy goodness. “Good?” Sebastian asked. She nodded and shoveled another piece into her mouth. Sebastian went back to the counters. He leaned against the edge and watched Nadine eagerly eat like she hadn’t in days. She really had quite the appetite.
  After a moment, Sebastian hesitantly cleared his throat. “Nadine, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” He didn’t know how to go about it. He knew how much the woods meant to her. He didn’t quite understand it, but he could see. As he spoke, he turned and began filling his satchel with project files for work. “I, um . . . I don’t want you going into the woods anymore—from now on, okay?” When she didn’t respond, Sebastian slanted her a glance.
  Nadine’s delicate brows drew together. “What? But I like it out there . . .”
  “I know,” he replied sympathetically. “But it’s not safe anymore.” Nadine swallowed. Her gentle expression went blank and her lips pressed together. She dropped her fork and slumped into the seat. Her emerald gaze went outside as her small hands fell into her lap. She pressed her foot against the leg of the chair across her and tilted her chair back. It creaked noisily.
  “Why?” She demanded.
  Sebastian exhaled. He could already tell this was going to give him a headache. “Because it’s dangerous,” he tried to explain as smoothly as possible. He didn’t want to scare her with the truth. Maybe if she found out a gigantic predator was lurking just beyond a wall of glass protecting her, she might not feel safe anymore.
  Again, with the same reluctant tone, she asked, “Why?” Her pink lips pressed together, and confusion danced in her emerald eyes.
  At the island where his work bag sat, Sebastian slipped his blazer on and adjusted his glasses. “Because,” he simply responded. The back legs of Nadine’s chair creaked as she constantly rocked on them. “Because why?” she asked again.
  “Nadine, would you stop doing that.”
  “Tell me why?”
  “Because,”—Sebastian paused, utterly annoyed, then added in a rush—”Because there are mountain lions out there.” Nadine’s frown only deepened. With a delicate brow raised and arched, she moved her foot, and the chair’s front legs met back with the floor.
  “Mountain lions?”
  Sebastian pressed his lips together in thought, and he stared down at his bag, his back still to her. How was he going to explain mountain lions to her? “Big cats,” he decided, and faced Nadine. “big, big cats. And not cute little kitties. Big ones—that will maul your face off if given a chance.” Sebastian cringed when he realized the negativity he had just spewed. He slanted Nadine a nervous glance, but to his utter surprise, instead of a look of horror, she was grinning. The small gap between her front teeth flashed.
  Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “What?” He asked, and found himself mirroring the action.
  Nadine bit down on her bottom lip and fidgeted with her hands under the table. Her smile was wide and childlike. “Sebastian’s worried about Nadine,” she narrated. Even if Sebastian were blind and couldn’t see that smile, he could certainly hear the smirk in her tone.
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