Elsie was still staring at the page. Placing my hand over her writing, I forced her to look up. “Yeah, I kinda think you do.”

Elsie blinked and her blue eyes grew glossy. Pain sliced through my stomach at seeing her so vulnerable. I wasn’t good with words, wasn’t good with comforting people.

Changing the subject, I asked, “You couldn’t sleep tonight?”

Elsie shrugged, but I could see there was something more from the expression on her face. My finger traced the textured pattern on the comforter and I prompted, “Why?”

Elsie hesitated to write on the paper, but eventually she did. I waited, drinking in the scent of her newly-washed hair. It was so light and long. Her skin was bright and she looked good. Real good.

My admiration was interrupted when Elsie turned the paper for me to read. As I read her words, sadness filled my heart. “I don’t like the dark. I hate silence. I woke up and the room was too dark, too unfamiliar and too quiet… I was afraid. Bad thoughts come into my head at night, when there’s no light.”

I briefly closed my eyes, and nodded my head. “Yeah,” I rasped. “I used to feel like that when we moved in this place too.” I motioned around the pool house. “I wasn’t brought up in anything like this. We were poor back in Bama, real poor. And we lived in a real bad area. I hated the dark because where I’m from bad things happened in the dark.”

As I finished speaking, my eyebrows pulled down in surprise. I’d never told anyone that much about my past. Ever.

When I looked at Elsie, I could see the confusion and surprise etched on her face. I shrugged, feeling my cheeks flush. “All this, this house. It’s Austin’s, my brother’s. He plays for the Seahawks. He saved us.”

Elsie’s face was almost comical when I told her who Austin played for. Hating that what I had said made her uncomfortable, an idea came to my head.

Jumping to my feet, I nervously walked to my desk. Seeing the mason jar that held my pens, I tipped it upside down and turned back to Elsie. “When I grew up in Bama, and we had no money to pay for electricity, my mamma used to have a trick to light the trailer.” I laughed thinking of those old memories and shook my head. “Now, we’re in Seattle, so things aren’t quite the same as being back in Tuscaloosa.” I glanced to Elsie and I huffed a quiet laugh at seeing her head tipped to the side and her pretty face wearing a mask of confusion.

“Come with me?” I asked, trying my best to keep the shaking from my voice.

Elsie paused for a minute, but then timidly got to her feet. I towered over her small frame.

On a deep breath, I moved to the door. Hearing the wind pick up outside I stopped, and looked behind me. Elsie was following and she stopped too on seeing my hard stare. I looked at her thin pajamas and chastised myself about the fact she was still sick.

Elsie’s expression questioned what I was doing. I held up my hand and moved to the closet. I pulled out one of my Huskies football hoodies, and walked to where she stood. Elsie flicked her timid eyes in my direction, and I handed the hoodie to her. “You best put this on, it’s pretty cold outside.”

I took the paper and pen from Elsie and she slipped on the sweatshirt. When she flicked her long golden hair from the hood, I couldn’t help but smile at how low the sweatshirt hung on her body; how big it was compared to her small height. It drowned her.

Clearing my throat, I tore my eyes away and made to move from the door, when I saw Elsie tucking her nose into the collar of the hoodie and inhaled. Embarrassed that it hadn’t been washed since I’d worn it for class a few days ago, I said, “If it ain’t clean I can get you another one.”

Elsie paused, then tucking her arms around her waist, she gently shook her head. Her cheeks reddened and she dipped her eyes. At first I was confused at why she was embarrassed, but as she lifted the collar of my hoodie to her nose once again, this time, it was my turn to redden. She liked that my smell was on it.

My feet carried me right to where she was standing. Elsie dropped her arms as I came closer. My heart was pounding, my palms sweating but, through force of will, I lifted my hands up and gently pulled the hoodie’s ties tighter to her neck. Elsie’s blue eyes were bright and wide, and I found myself whispering, “It’s cold outside, you need to stay warm.”

Elsie smiled and nodded her head. Lowering my hands, I clutched the jar to my chest and told her, “We’re just going across to the yard. Lexi has a craft shed out there.”

I saw Elsie’s head move back as if she was questioning what we were doing. I ran my hand through my hair and flicked my head in the direction of the door. “Come on, I’ll explain when we’re there.”

Turning, I walked out of the door, holding it open for Elsie to slip through. As soon as we stepped outside, a powerful rush of wind wrapped around us. Elsie laughed as the blast of wind blew through her hair. I stilled. I just had to pause just for one minute. She’d laughed. Elsie had laughed. She’d made a sound. It was a light soft sound, a sound just as pretty as she was.

As if realizing this too late, Elsie stopped laughing and her expression filled with sudden fear. I had no idea why she wouldn’t or couldn’t speak, but I could see that it worried her that I’d heard her soft laugh.

There was no reason she should have been embarrassed in front of me. I heard Elsie inhale deeply as I pointed toward the shed on the other side of the yard.

I opened the door, and switched on the light as soon as we were through. The wind slapped against the glass windows as I moved to the table in the center of the room. I placed the jar on top, and turned to see Elsie’s mouth slightly open as she admired the inside of the shed. ‘Shed’ wasn’t exactly the ideal word to describe this place. It was huge, a place where Lexi came to relax, a place where she brought Dante to play.

Elsie walked to the shelves which were filled with every material and craft item you could think of. She ran a hand lightly over the fabrics hanging on their rolls.

“Crazy, hey?” I said, pointing around the room when Elsie looked my way.

Elsie shrugged, then laid her hand over her heart. I studied the movement trying to understand what it meant, when she smiled and pointed at embroidered pictures hanging on a wall.

She liked the room. That was what she was trying to say.

Leaving her to explore, I took out what I needed and sat down on one of the wooden chairs at the round table in the center. As Elsie moved past the final shelf, she came over to where I was sitting and, hesitantly, stood by my side. Pulling out another wooden chair, I motioned for her to sit down.

Tucking a fallen piece of hair behind her ear, Elsie sat down and I watched with amusement as she studied what I’d laid out. Suddenly feeling pathetic, I shifted on my seat and admitted, “This is probably a real dumb idea.” I ran my hand down my face, just to do something with my hands, and said, “Lexi did it for Dante’s—my baby nephew’s—room a while back. It came to mind when you wrote about not liking the dark.” The more I looked at the damn jar and ribbon lying on the table, the more I was convinced this was a stupid idea.

Deciding to cut my losses, I shook my head and got to my feet. Elsie jumped as I did so and stared up at me, her doe eyes filled with questions. Rocking on my feet, I explained, “It’s a stupid idea, Elsie. Don’t know what I was thinking.”