Chapter 175

Grandma Bright squinted at the twins before her. During the last harvest, they had been two skinny, sunburnt little sprouts. Now, they were plump and rosy-cheeked, dressed in brand-new cotton shoes and thick padded jackets—they could pass for children of city officials.

"Thank you, Grandma!" Tommy chirped, clutching the dried sweet potato strips tightly in his small hand.

The boys didn’t linger. Tucking away their treats, they dashed home in a flash.

"Mom! Grandma Bright gave us sweet potato strips!"

Emily Johnson was busy by the stove. She arched an eyebrow. "Grandma Bright? You should call her Granny Bright." There was a generational difference, after all.

Tommy stretched on his tiptoes to stuff a strip into his mother’s mouth. "Try it, Mom! It’s so sweet!"

It was indeed sweet. As Emily chewed the handmade snack, a thought struck her. "Tomorrow, I’m going to town with Amy. Do you want to stay at Grandma Stone’s or—"

"We’ll guard the house!" David blurted out. The cured meat still hung from the kitchen beam—his father had brought it back from the mountains. No way would he let anyone steal it.

The next morning, Emily assigned the boys their homework and checked the doors and windows.

"What do you want me to bring back?"

David shook his head, but Tommy’s eyes lit up. "Mom, can we have soda? The kind Dad bought last time—" His voice trailed off, bracing for rejection.

"One bottle only." Emily pinched his cheek. "Too much isn’t good for your teeth."

Tommy threw his arms around her with a cheer. "We’ll finish our homework, promise!"

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, Amy Bright arrived breathless. "Sorry to keep you waiting, sis!"

"Perfect timing." Emily handed over the fare for the oxcart. "Clinic first?"

The women on the cart eyed the pair curiously. One in a blue cotton jacket piped up, "Stocking up for the New Year, Emily?"

"Just getting some fabric for the boys’ new clothes." Emily deftly shifted the topic. "Heard your daughter’s getting married soon?"

The clinic reeked of antiseptic. To Emily’s surprise, the old doctor prescribed medicine without even asking questions.

"Why the daze, sis?" Amy tugged her sleeve. "We’ll miss the queue at the Supply & Market."

Seeing the snaking line ahead, Emily suddenly gripped Amy’s wrist. "Remember—wait for me right here." Her tone was so grave it froze the girl in place.

(Cliffhanger: Why is Emily so tense? What—or who—is she guarding against?)