"I told you two to stay home for a reason," Mrs. Wittebane scolded as she handed her eldest son a cup of tea.

"Sorry, mother," Caleb said.

"It was my fault. I convinced him," Philip said.

"Yes, well, your brother is the older one and should have handled you better," their father retorted, putting his pipe in a box on the mantle.

Caleb didn't say anything. He just stared at his tea, but his mother put her hands on her hips. "Now you're being unfair. Don't you remember that Philip has your stubborn will?"

"My statement still stands," he retorted.

"Excuse me. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head back to bed," Caleb mumbled, setting his tea aside. He walked past his parents and went up the ladder to the loft. He laid down on his mattress and pulled the covers over his head but he could do nothing to drown out his parents.

"Caleb, I wasn't done talking with you-" his father started.

"Talk to him in the morning. Let him sleep," his mother interjected, which his father seemed to agree to.

A while later, Caleb opened his eyes. He could see a line of light on the horizon, indicating that the sun was rising. Philip was sleeping beside him, for they did share a mattress after all. His father said if they really wanted their own beds, they needed to move out, which was fair. There wasn't really room for another one in their tiny house.

Perhaps he should move out. He wasn't against it and he was willing to make it work and be on his own, but his father was rather two faced. Wanted him to make a man of himself, but also wanted him to be a part of the family business. However, that involved a stronger stomach and Caleb wasn't capable of skinning animals apparently. He couldn't make it five minutes without vomiting on the furs. Even if he was used to the sight, the smell and everything about it, he still wasn't capable of pulling himself together.

He heard a wooden spoon tap on the pot, indicating that his mother was awake and making breakfast. That would be his cue to get out of bed. He decided he would wait to wake up Philip later when he was told to. It was a long night and he wanted his brother to get all the rest he could before they started another day.

Since there was a burning at the stake, the town would be cleaning up the ashes. And since Lucinda had lived on the edge of town and didn't have any relatives of anyone's knowledge, she wouldn't be given a ceremony. Not that she would have gotten one if she had a family. She would be disowned and not deserve the right to a proper burial.

It was sad, really. If anyone had heard him think like that, he would have been bonked on the head, but he couldn't help it. After all, he couldn't imagine dying alone. He couldn't imagine living in the world without the people he loved surrounding him. To mourn him when he died, or miss him when he was gone. It had to be terrible to be in Lucinda's shoes. Of course, nothing, not even loneliness could justify the evil of a witch.

"Morning, Caleb. Your father's already working in the smokehouse," Mrs. Wittebane said.

"Morning, Ma."

She handed him a bowl of oatmeal and he sat down with it at the table. His mother sat down with her bowl to eat. There was silence between them, both not a fan of the mornings and focused on staying awake.

When he was done, he pushed his empty bowl over to the side. He saw that Philip was coming down the ladder so he didn't have to worry about waking him. Caleb grabbed his cloak, pulling it over his shoulders and buttoning it. Grabbing the doorknob, he opened it and closed it behind him as he walked to the smoke house where his father was. His probably wanted him to deliver the skins back to the Harleys'.

"Hey, Pa," Caleb said.

"Caleb."

"Yes, Pa?"

"If you were to see a witch, what would you do?"

"I would tell the village leader or a counsel member. Why?"

"Would you?"

"Yes... Why wouldn't I?"

"You always seem to sympathize with those witches," his father retorted.

"I do, but they chose that path and not saying anything would leave everyone in danger and at risk."

"Would you report them if it was your own family?"

"No, because none of us are witches." Caleb gave his father a confused look, uncertain why his father was suddenly asking him all these questions. His father was never the type to discuss much about witches. But after the incident where he witnessed Lucinda performing a magic spell in the strange hut miles from the town, he had been acting rather off.

"I said if they were," he spoke harshly, turning to look at his son. "Would you or would you not?"

Caleb tried to pretend he didn't finch. "Well..." He nervously clenched his fists, thinking deeply. To see his mother, his father, or especially Philip be burned at stake would be the worst thing that ever happened and he would never forgive himself. So he decided on his answer. "If it meant I was keeping the rest of my family safe, then I would have no choice but to. Why?"

"Nevermind. Take those skins to the Harleys' so they can make the leather. I'm heading out to check out the animal traps. When you're done, I'll be back for more instruments," Mr. Wittebane ordered.

"Yes, sir." Caleb took the sack of animal skins, throwing the bag over his shoulder. He passed his father a confused look, but the man had his back towards him.

Caleb left with the skins, walking the two miles to the Harleys' place. He knocked on the door to find Mrs. Harley was the one to answer. "I brought the skins."

"Oh, thank you. You can set them in the barn. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

It would be rude not to accept. She let him in and he sat at the table and she poured him a cup of tea. He took a sip as the front door opened again. It was Sarah bringing in an arm full of firewood.

"Oh, morning, Caleb," she said.

"Morning, Sarah."

"Did you know Sarah is courting?" Mrs. Harley asked as she pulled out a loaf bread.

"No, no I did. That's great, Sarah." Caleb grinned, but it felt like his heart was cracking. He supposed he should have guessed as much. When Peter moved to town a year prior it was only a matter of time. Peter was everything he wasn't, and Sarah was perfect. Of course Caleb knew her flaws, he basically knew her since childhood, but he never minded them.

He could hear his father's voice in the back of his head saying if he wanted a girl, he needed to tell the girl. Perhaps he was too slow and if he had expressed his feelings, she would be courting him. But it wasn't anything in his control.

Sarah grinned. "Thank you." Then she gave a teasing smirk. "Ever going to start courting yourself?"

Caleb chuckled. "Not sure yet."

She laughed.