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Arthur pointed to a large, rectangular box wrapped in dark green paper resting on the front branches of the tree.
“I believe that one has your name on it, young lady.”
Chloe didn’t run. She walked forward with slow, sacred steps, her bare toes squeaking softly against the floor, her eyes locked onto the green box.
She reached out, touched the gold satin ribbon, and looked back at her mother for permission.
Eleanor stood with her hands pressed against her mouth, weeping silently into her palms, her chest heaving with twenty-four months of accumulated terror, exhaustion, and heartbreak dissolving into the warm pine air. She gave her daughter a single, weeping nod.
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Chloe pulled the ribbon.
The green paper fell away, revealing a heavy, down-filled winter parka of deep sapphire blue, with a soft, white fleece-lined hood and waterproof storm cuffs. Tucked into the pocket of the coat were two pairs of thick, thermal wool socks and a small, hand-carved wooden reindeer with a red nose.
