Rose stood in the snow with old boots and the only fur coat she had draped over her shoulders, but it did nothing to warm the cold lodge deep in her heart. Flakes of snow floated in the air, pooling in the hole in the ground—the hole meant to hold her mother. Rose still couldn't believe it.
Someone was speaking, but she didn't hear a thing as she stood over the empty hole. Knowing this was where her mother was going to be placed, but it felt like a dream.
Everything did.
Ever since her outburst with her father, Rose had been awfully quiet. She went about her duties as usual, and sometimes she would start to scoop out food for her mother before she remembered. She would then sob silently, eating the food instead.
Her father tried to talk to her, but Rose didn't want to speak to anyone. Her father was great—he didn't pester her or say anything in relation to her mother. The only time he brought it up was to tell her he was going to get her mother buried.
