Manderley didn't always join me on my walks through the woods, so I'd go on my own, not too far, but far enough to quench my thirst for it. It fed my heart.

I went every day, even when the weatherman on the radio said, "Stay indoors if you can." Nothing but rain could keep me from exploring, even then I would stand at the door, my gaze on the trees below, thinking of the way they'd whispered to me the day before.

The woods no longer frightened me.

Since Phillip didn't keep a calendar in the house, at least not one he kept visible, I kept track of the days on the little notepad Manderley had brought me. I'd put a big circle around October 31st. Halloween had always filled me with excitement. Every Halloween, I felt like a little kid, offering up my bag to be filled with treats.

What would the woods offer me today?

I got out of bed, much earlier than I did most days. Even Manderley hadn't yet risen. Phillip slept with one leg hanging over the couch. A dull, gray light fell in through the windows. I pulled the door open and stepped outside. Winter galloped to me as soon as he saw me, sniffing my palm and licking it.

"Good morning," I said, smoothing my hand over the top of his head.

Having him in the house had been more trouble than it was worth. As his leg healed, he would gallop through the house, kicking, sniffing, and tearing at things. He'd knocked over two vases and the couch had a hole in its side where stuffing stuck out. Margaret helped me care for him to the best of our ability, but he belonged out there and the sooner we put him back the better. Today, Phillip and I would take him back to where I'd found him.

"How did you sleep?" I asked him, but he'd already lost interest in me and galloped away to the fence. I suspected that he missed being outside of the fence. I'd always catch him sniffing it or nipping at it, as he did now. He probably liked to listen to them, too, the trees with their hushed voices. Maybe they beckoned him.

Soon the cold air became too cold against the thin fabric of my nightdress. I called, "See you later, Winter," and went back inside. Although it hadn't yet hit seven am, I got ready for the day. By the time Phillip, Manderley, and Margaret woke, I had already dressed and sat at the table with a cup of tea and Nora's copy of Jane Eyre. No matter how much I tried, after every line I read, I'd turn to the back of the book to reread Nora's writing, hoping to catch more of her in the curl of her letters. Nora inspired me. She'd been in love with someone she couldn't have. And after her heartbreak, she'd opened her heart to Phillip, who she'd owed nothing to.

"Morning," Phillip said. "It was you making all of that noise earlier." He got up to open the door for Manderley.

On cue, Manderley dove out of it. After she had gone, Phillip stood in the doorway. He closed it as Margaret came in.

"Happy Halloween," she said, spreading her arms. She'd already changed for the day. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. The ponytail swung back and forth as she turned to me and Phillip.

"Happy Halloween, Margaret," Phillip said, gathering his things up on the couch. He stuffed them into his duffel bag. "We'll leave as soon as I'm dressed," he said to me. He took his clothes into the bathroom.

Margaret began to make herself a cup of tea. "Did you check on Winter?" she asked, taking the box of peppermint tea out of the cabinet.

"He's okay." I gulped down the rest of my own cup and brought it to the sink.

Phillip came back out as I turned off the water. "Ready?" he said

I nodded. "We should get something to tie him with."

Phillip, holding up his finger, pulled open a drawer where he kept some supplies. "This will do," he said, taking out a bundle of rope.

But getting Winter to stay still long enough to get the rope around him took much longer than I'd anticipated. "Hold him still," I said to Phillip. After several minutes of trying, I slipped the noose around his neck. He thrashed his head around a while but saw that he'd never come free of it unless we wanted him to be and stopped.

"Don't worry," I said. "It won't be for long." I pulled him forward towards the fence.

Phillip held it for us. "I hope he doesn't follow us back."

Winter was gleeful to be away from the cabin with its fence that had kept him in. He'd stop every now and then to sniff and nip at leaves and bushes. He'd refuse to walk until he'd satisfied his curiosity.

It didn't take us long to find the spot where Manderley and I had found him.

"Are you sure this is it?" Phillip asked.

The pile of leaves I'd found him under had scattered, but I was sure. I untied the rope from around Winter's neck. He stood there blinking at me, unsure of what I expected him to do here. "You're free," I said, a little sad now that I wouldn't see him again after this. Although he hadn't been like a puppy or kitten, and he could never be a companion to me like Manderley with Phillip, I'd come to like him.

He sniffed around the ground. Phillip tapped my arm and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. We backed away. Winter, too busy being a deer, didn't follow us. Margaret had warned that he might try to, and it hurt a little that he'd thought lesser of me than I had of him, but what could you expect from a wild thing? They belonged to no one. Even Manderley went off on her own and didn't cling to Phillip's side like a wide-eyed puppy. I became a wild thing whenever I explored the woods on my own.

Phillip took my hand. "Let's go to the lake."

"Okay," I said. I hadn't been to the lake since the day he'd mentioned Nora. The weather wasn't cold enough for it to freeze over yet, but I longed to be near it, to listen to the waves lap against the shore, maybe to even feel the bite of the water on my fingertips.

We diverged off the path we'd taken onto another. The lake loomed ahead, as magnificent as it had been the first time, a great being of pure blue. Our shoulders pressed against each other as we watched The Great Whispering Expanse, as Phillip had nicknamed it. It did whisper, much like the trees did. What was it saying? Was it happy to see me?

I got closer and dipped my fingers in it. Now it could taste my flesh. It stung my flesh, which jolted me. Now I understood why Phillip had come here to clear his head when the field could have done the same. The jolt of the cold water on my skin had refreshed me. I was here with this boy who was magnificent because he'd been through so much. I took my hand away and wiped it down my coat.

"The water gets cold around this time of year," Phillip said, coming to stand beside me once more. He threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

"Ivy of my heart," he said into my ear.

His breath lingered on my ear, warm, as if I could touch it. I touched my ear. "Yes?" I looked up at him. There wasn't a freckle on his skin, pure as ivory. The pools of his eyes were so murky I swore his lashes stained blue when he blinked. I wanted to kiss both, to stain my lips with him. He searched my eyes for something.

Something I didn't know existed in me.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked.

I didn't think boys were supposed to ask. They were supposed to know. Maybe my lips didn't look ready enough because yes—yes—I wanted him to. But like a fool, I pursed my mouth. "What about Margaret?" I asked. I'd seen the look on her face when we'd danced together. If we kissed, she'd know once we got back. She'd see it somehow, maybe in the way we'd glance at each other. He hadn't kissed her. She would have told me if he had. I hoped she would tell me. He pressed his lips to my temple.

"Margaret," I said, as he kissed me farther down, below my ear and on my jaw. He stopped just near my lips, teasing me. I waited patiently for him to continue. The tingle of where his mouth had been didn't subside.

"Margaret," he said, brushing his lips against mine. "Can't stop us."

I was sure I was ready for it. I'd replayed the moment in my mind countless times. I parted my lips, anticipating him—the yearning burned in my chest. Greediness had me leaning closer, but the gentleness of his mouth baffled me—slow and tentative, soft as a feather of his hair. Where was his hunger, his desperation? He pulled away too soon, leaving me starved. When I looked down at myself, to see if his kiss had changed anything, my heart ceased beating.

Phillip's smiled at me, mouth stained red. "Love isn't poison."

I blinked and my eyes refocused, his lips pink once more, not red, and bloody. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you," he said, trailing his finger along my cheek.

I couldn't take my eyes away from his mouth. I had to be sure I hadn't seen it marred with blood. Doubt swirled through me, more ardent than his kiss.

Ivy of my heart, he'd said.