The Quiet before the Road

It was gray and heavy in the morning. There was a thin fog all over the courtyard over the stones that had now lost their white color. There was a damp air of ash and smoke of hushed fires. There was a wolf somewhere on the other side of the walls calling, on a low and distant note. It didn’t sound angry. It had a weary sound, such as all that preserved the night.

Annabelle was close to the high window. Her hair was long, with strands that were straggled. She ...