Page 3 of What Remains

Seth unlatched the door of the coop, its hinges creaking softly in the cold air and a whiff of warm air escaped, carrying the familiar smell of straw and feathers. Hens squawked quietly and shifted in their perches, while a couple of bold ones approached with hungry eyes.

"All right, girls," he whispered, crouching in front of them. "Let's see what you brought us."

Watch peeked into the coop beside him and smelled the birds. A hen snapped at his nose in response and Watch backed off, deeply offended, sneezing at that.

Seth laughed, the sound rusty even to his own ears. "Yeah, that's what you get for putting your nose where it does not belong."

He collected the eggs in the basket – fragile, warm treasures—while Watch observed the process.

"You know," Seth said conversationally, "I've seen Addy angry… but if you ever decide to have some snack from one of these chickens?" He paused, holding up a speckled egg between his fingers as an illustration. "She'll skin you alive and make your hide into a welcome mat. And I won't save you."

Watch looked at him, unblinking.

Seth sighed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm serious."

Watch gave him one wag of the tail.

"That wasn't agreement," Seth muttered, closing the coop.

Next, they visited the ducks who squawked indignantly at the disturbance, ruffling feathers in dramatic outrage. Seth refilled their water bowl and spread the food while Watch wandered among them, curious and sniffing, but staying respectful – honoring the rule that chickens and ducks remain strictly forbidden.

"Good boy," Seth whispered. "Smart dog. Staying alive is a group effort around here."

The gust of cold air swept through the yard, carrying the smell of pine trees and ashes from the night fire. Seth straightened up, hands buried deep in his pockets of the jacket, and surveyed the homestead – smoke rising from the chimney, snow sticking to the branches of trees, everything quiet. Watch nudged his leg – warm and solid, small support.

"C'mon," Seth murmured to the dog. "Let's get those eggs inside before Addy thinks we ran off with the breakfast."

Watch barked once and followed him to the cabin, leaving new tracks in the fresh snow.

Inside, Addy stood in front of the stove in one of Sawyer's hoodies, the sleeves pushed up over the elbows. The morning light was seeping in through the frosted window and each time she sighed, her breath was forming a faint cloud in response to the cold that still refused to surrender to the fire.

Her hand drifted – almost unconsciously – to the slightly rounded curve of her stomach, now visible.

Seth entered the cabin, stomping the snow off the boots and Watch trotted behind him like a faithful shadow. He shook the chill from his jacket.

"Good morning," he said, lifting the basket with eggs.

Addy turned, her lips forming a warm smile. "Up early."

"Chickens don't feed themselves," he said, giving her a crooked grin and placing the basket on the table.

Addy pulled the cloth cover from the basket, her breath catching.

"Oh my god—duck eggs?"

Seth nodded. "Four. Betty and Matilda are in top shape this week."

Addy cradled one of the eggs in her hands, examining it with reverence. "These… these are perfect."

Seth smirked. "Thought you'd be excited."

"Excited? Seth, these are gold." She held one up to the light and examined it carefully. "Before all this, I hated eggs – like, not even going to touch them, gag at the smell hated. But now? Now they're practically currency."

Seth leaned against the table with folded arms. "Proud of the girls. They're earning their keep."

Addy laughed. "Oh, they definitely are."

Then, as she slowly rotated the egg in her hands, she had a sudden idea, just as Seth did.