Little Red Riding Hood stared as she plucked the wilted leaves from a flower’s stem. After relocating to Innangard, they had a small cabin built outside of the settlement that became known as Vindheim. Her family had always lived out in the country, but here, they had several neighbors, one of which was weird.

Little Red had grasped for another leaf but was left wanting, glancing down to find the only thing in her hand was a bare stem—the purple flower bud also removed.

“Awwuh”, she muled, finding the purple petals in the lap of her red cloak. She sat in patchy grass with her legs in a ‘W,’ her ankles to each side. Her hood was down, revealing her strawberry colored hair, her bangs swept back across her face by the wind. A batch of freckles were shelved atop her nose and cheeks as her green eyes searched, welling up as she sifted the assorted flowers around her. They were arranged by color—red, yellow, orange, green and...no purple.

Little Red’s head sagged. That was my last purple. If only he hadn’t distracted me. On remembering him, she looked up again. But he was gone. He lived in a row of cabins that sat crossways from their own. He didn’t go outside much, but when he did, he seemed jumpy and would run back to his house a lot.

‘The countryside’s quieter,’ her mother once said. ‘Peaceful, even. And no one bothers you out here.’

Little Red recalled that conversation. It was the answer to something she had asked her mother. ‘Why don’t we just move grandmother into town? Then, we can move there too, so we needn’t walk so far for a visit.’ It was from back when they lived in their old home. Before that strange girl showed up. Before that hole opened underneath her and swallowed her up. It was before everything changed.

I don’t think it’s a quieter countryside with that man around. She leaned to grab a nearby wicker basket, preparing to gather up her flowers, but got distracted by a nearby dandelion full of floaties. A wish, she thought, plucking it eagerly and pausing with her eyes closed. I wish I had a brother. No, wait. A sister. Yes, definitely a sister. With her wish settled, she opened her eyes, nodded, then took a deep breath.

The wind gusted.

Little Red’s eyes widened as the floaties moved into her mouth before she could blow them away. A coughing fit ensued as she repeatedly spit and scrubbed at her mouth with the back of her cloak covered wrist.

“Abby?” her mother called. “You ain’t eating those are you?”

Abby turned back to see her mother approaching from a clothes line fastened to the side of their house. She wore a linen dress with a gray apron. Her hair was muddy blond but was mostly hidden, tied back in a hand towel as a head scarf.

Abby shook her head. “No, Ma. The floaties. They blew the wrong way.” She realized she had heard a laugh while she was choking and turned back to look around. After a brief search, she found someone in a green cloak sitting leaned against one of the neighboring houses. But that house belonged to a brother and sister. He was nine and she was eleven, which was basically the same as Abby. But the stranger wasn’t them. And it wasn’t their father. Or their mother either.

“Abby, how many times I gotta tell you not to sit like that? You keep on and your legs’ll get stuck. Is that what you want?”

Abby didn’t reply, instead pointing to the green cloaked figure. “Hey, Ma? Who’s that?”

Ma looked as the figure stood and turned towards Vindheim. “I have a guess,” Ma said. “Stay here.”

Abby began to stand, her mother stopping abruptly to point back at her. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Ma.”

After a nod, Ma turned back to the stranger, who seemed in a hurry. “Hey!” Ma called. “Not so fast! You know I’m talking to you, so don’t go actin’ like I’m not.”

The figure paused.

“I got questions,” Ma continued. “And you’ve got their pairs.”

A portal opened next to Abby’s mother, the green cloaked stranger on the other side. “What makes you think I’ve got your answers?” the stranger asked in a girl’s voice. A green hood was pulled over her head, concealing much of her face.

Ma crossed her arms and met the girl’s gaze. “It is you, innit?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You might be wearing a green cloak in place of your red scarf, but I know it’s you under there. You’re the girl that brought us here. And you oughta know what folks say about you.”

“Well...you can probably ignore the worst half of those rumors.”

“I reckon that’s true about most things. But what about our huntsman—Jack? He stops by here on occasion. During his patrols. He’s got some things to say about you too. And it’s almost like he and everyone else are talking about two different girls.”

The stranger smiled. “You can probably ignore the best half of anything Jack says.”

“So, you’d have me believe you’re somewhere around the middle?”

“I don’t really care what you believe. It’s just a suggestion.”

“If you don’t care, then why are you snooping?”

The stranger looked away. “I wasn’t snooping. I stopped for a rest is all.”

“Uh huh. Well, answer me this... When we first got here—after you abducted us—me and Abby were the only ones here...in this Innangard of yours. And it was a while before others started showing up. And a long while before people started building up Vindheim.”

“I’m not hearing a question.”

Abby’s mother raised an eyebrow. “We were the first ones you took, were we not?”

The girl shook her head. “That was months ago. How am I supposed to remember—”

“What’d I say about playing dumb? We’re all here now, so what ill is it gonna do to be honest?”

“Does that even matter?”

“I’m not hearing an answer.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah. Okay? I brought you here first. Why would that matter?”

“Matter to us? Not really. But to you?” Ma trailed off, then nodded. “We didn’t see what other folks saw during the attacks. We were gone before then. Maybe you didn’t cause the attacks, but you knew they were coming.”

Wait, Abby thought. She’s got something to do with the monsters people talk about?

Ma glanced back to Abby, who stood and leaned towards their conversation with interest. “This is about Abby. She’s important to you somehow. And you snooping is your idea of looking out for her.”

“Now, hold on a minute. I’m not saying any of that.”

“Of course you ain’t. I am. Look, it’s plain you got magic. Maybe that don’t make you a witch, but I trust you could take Abby away anytime you wanted. You proved that already. So, you brought her here first and you likely keep checking on her. Which is what she just caught you doing.”

Abby’s mother paused as if waiting for an argument, but the girl didn’t seem to have anything to say. “As I thought,” Ma continued. “So, how long until my Abby’s silent protector introduces herself?”

The stranger turned away, shaking her head. “You said it yourself. Most of Vindheim’s residents hate me. And since they can’t take that up with me...it usually means trouble for anyone considering themselves a friend.”

“You leave me to worrying about my own trouble. But I take it you’re referring to that nice young barmaid that got stabbed. And those ruffians that tried to mess with Jack.”

“Someone messed with Jack?” she asked, abruptly. “Is he alright? I should go check—”

“He’s fine, girly,” Ma said, smiling. “I said they tried. But that Jack can be a downright brute when he means to be. The group that attacked him, they got thumped mighty hard. Everyone lived but I reckon that Jack beat the fight right out of the lot of ‘em.”

The girl relaxed, shook her head, and smiled. “Of course he did. He’s still stronger than anything here. He’s safe.” As she trailed off, Ma reached through the portal, took her by the arm, and hauled her through to their side. “What are you doing?” she protested.

Ma reached and pulled the girl’s hood down, revealing her braided black hair and pretty blue eyes that seemed to glow. My, what blue eyes she has, Abby thought. I love them.

“I’m getting right tired of calling you ‘girl,’” Ma said, folding her arms. “Enough heming and hawing. You obviously care about what’s happening around here, so this aloof stranger business doesn’t suit you. Now. What do I call you? And before you go arguing, like I said, I’ll manage my own trouble.”

The girl focused on Ma’s eyes, glancing to each as she came to realize what Abby had always known—Ma didn’t back down. She sighed. “I’m Mioko. Mioko Inada.”

Abby’s mother nodded. “It’s a name I haven’t heard before, but it suits you better than ‘girl.’ You can call me ‘Ma.’ Everyone does. Now, how would you feel about stopping by to visit Abby from time to time?”

Mioko’s eyes grew wide—wider than Abby thought possible. “You’d let me see her?”

Ma shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You see what good can come of not being strangers to one another? Besides, even believing a fraction of what your rumors suggest...I suspect that ‘with you’ is the safest place for anyone to be...in all of Innangard.”

Mioko’s eyes started to well up and she looked away. “I don’t...I don’t know what to say.”

“Most folks, when they’re grateful, they just say ‘thank you.’ Maybe you can take her to pick flowers one day soon.”

“I’d love that” Mioko said, meeting her gaze with tears streaming down her cheeks.”

Abby’s mother extended her arms, Mioko stepping in where they closed around her in a hug. “I know it, hun.”

“Thank you, Ma,” she replied, sobbing into Ma’s shoulder. “It means...so much.”

Abby’s eyes grew wide as she lifted her hand to view the dandelion stem she still held. My wish. She immediately set to looking for more of the flowers.