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you. He left you out there in the snow to die.)

She had to stop thinking about it or he would see it on her face—her resentment, her anger. If he saw those things in her eyes then she’d never escape him. He’d make sure of it. He’d break her legs, starve her, watch her every moment of the day. So she had to be good and keep her head down and reveal no spark of rebellion.

And wait for my chance.

Mattie stripped off her trousers and shirt, soaked a cloth in the cold water, then wet her skin all over. As she did, she discovered new bruises—a band of screaming purple around her ribs, a swollen mass in her thigh, the clear outline of his knuckles near her belly button. She rubbed a sliver of soap every place, trying not to cry out when she touched a tender spot. Then she rinsed herself with the cloth.

She heard William stomp into the cabin, followed by the clatter of wood. He was building the fire for breakfast. She’d have to hurry.

Mattie wrapped her long braid around her head and pinned it. There was no time to wash her hair, which was thick and heavy and fell to her hips—William never allowed her to cut it. She pulled on her thickest woolen stockings, a flannel dress and a sweater over it.

She was shivering all over, desperate to get in front of the fire—even though she wouldn’t, strictly speaking, use it for warmth. William needed his breakfast, so she’d be near the fire to cook. Any benefit to her was incidental.

William had gone out again by the time Mattie returned to the main room carrying the washbasin. She arrived at the front door just as William returned. He put the eggs and a slab of bacon on the table and took the basin from her to dump outside. This wasn’t kindness to spare her an extra chore, she knew. It was because he was hungry and wanted her to start cooking.

Mattie quickly sliced the bacon, laid it in the pan, and slid the pan onto the metal grate over the fire. Then she scooped coffee grounds into the mesh basket of the percolator, added water to the pot, and carefully put the pot in the hot coals near the edge of the fire. It was then time to turn the bacon. When that task was done, she set out plates and forks and cloths for napkins. William returned just as she took the bacon out of the pan and put the plate of still-sizzling meat on the table.

She cracked the eggs into the bacon grease while William took off his boots. He sat down at the table and waited. Mattie pulled the perking coffee pot out of the coals, her hand wrapped in a towel so she didn’t burn it on the metal handle. She poured out William’s coffee, turned the eggs, and a moment later she was at the table holding the hot pan, scooping eggs onto their plates.

“Four for me, one for you,” he said.

Don’t rise, she thought. She didn’t say anything, even though she was so hungry she could have eaten everything on the table herself. She gave him four eggs, keeping the smallest one for herself, and didn’t complain when he ate the lion’s share of the bacon, either.

Keep your head down and wait for your chance.

“I’m going into town today,” he said.

She looked up in surprise. After leaving her in the woods she’d been certain he’d stand at her shoulder all day long, dogging her every move.

“You will not leave the cabin for any reason,” he said.

She nodded. This was a standard instruction.

“You may have half the remaining bread while I’m gone. No butter. No coffee or milk. Only tea.”

Mattie knew there was only about a quarter-loaf of bread left. He was saying she could have a slice or two for the remainder of the day.

So I’m to be put on prisoner’s rations, then.

“I may be gone into the night. It depends on how long it takes me to find what I need.”

This was the most surprising thing he’d said yet. William always went to town and returned quickly, well before sundown.

“What are you going for?” Mattie asked, then bit her lip.

William hated questions. He always said that if he wanted her to know something, he would tell her. She was certain he’d respond that way, in his frozen-river voice, but instead he was silent.

She risked a glance and found him staring at his empty plate.

Then he said, “That bear is no bear. It’s a demon come to earth.”

Mattie was shocked by this conclusion, but she didn’t respond. She’d already spoken once when she hadn’t meant to.

“Those bones in the cave, the markings in the snow—no animal behaves like that. It can only be a demon. And if it is a demon, then God sent it here to try me.”

Mattie realized something then, something she’d always been vaguely aware of but never able to fully articulate. William was insane. He believed, truly believed, that whatever was out there in the woods was a creature from the pit and that he had a holy mission to destroy it.

There were so many things about her life, about William, that she’d never seen clearly before. Every time she’d shown a spark of spirit, William crushed it beneath his boot heel before she could think or question her circumstances. The only reason she was able to see him clearly now was because he’d left her alone to die, and therefore left her time to think for herself.

“I need traps,” he continued. “Traps big enough for a monster like that, and a rifle with bigger shot. And other things. They may not be easily available, so it may take some time for me to acquire them. You will not leave the cabin. You will not eat more than I have allowed you to eat. You will spend the day scrubbing every surface until it shines.”

“Yes,

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