"Something isn't right, Niall. I'm..." Mae presses a hand to her brow as unease rises in her chest,
like a blood-red moon foretelling misfortune.
"She's going to be all right."
Niall removes his reading glasses and gently places them atop the book.
"She's smart, honey," he says, offering her a reassuring glance.
Mae shakes her head, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "She hasn't called in over five days, Niall.
Five days. And she's not even reachable."
Niall closes the distance between them, and slips an arm around her waist. "Didn't she leave you another contact? Her landlord's... or a friend's, in case of an emergency?"
Tears burn in Mae's eyes. "No... no. I should've been more careful, Niall. My little girl—" Her voice cracks.
She presses a trembling hand to
her tightened chest as tears spill down her cheeks. "Oh, my Neva..."
Niall wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. "She'll be fine, honey. Maybe she just forgot to call. She's probably out with her friends. It's the holiday season, after all."
Mae shakes her head against his chest.
"You know she isn't like everyone else. She wouldn't spend Christmas and New Year's out partying and forget her poor aunt."
"We talked almost every day," she says. "And now,
all of a sudden, not even a message for her aunt? It doesn't make sense..."
She slowly pulls away, clutching the front of his shirt as she meets his gentle blue eyes.
"What if something really bad has happened to her? What if—"
"Calm down, Mae." Niall gently wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.
"She has a life of her own now.
Her own friends, her own world."
Mae frowns and pushes herself away from him.
"What do you mean, her own world?" Her voice wavers.
"A world without her Aunt Mae in it?"
She sobs, burying her face in her hands.
"You're wicked, Niall. You know you are!"
"Stabbing my already wounded heart," she cries. "It's my fault. I never should
have let her leave. If something happens to her... what will I do, Niall? What will I do?"
Niall draws her into his embrace and presses a kiss to her temple.
"Nothing will happen. Have faith, Mae," he murmurs. "If you're this worried,
we'll leave for Erriador tomorrow."
"We will?" she asks, sniffling.
A faint smile tugs at Niall's lips.
His beautiful wife had always been soft, never allowing the niece they
cherished like their own daughter to feel the emptiness left by her late parents.
It had been three months since Neva moved to Erriador to continue her studies, yet he could still hear the echoes of her heartwarming presence in the quiet that now filled their home.
Their little bird had grown,
spreading her wings to soar toward the life the Lord had prepared for her.
And as he whispers, "Yes, I promise," he silently prays that their daughter is safe and sound, divinely
protected in the foreign land of Erriador.