Chapter 1

Darrel Curtis stepped off the bus from work, cursing his smarting back and his old broken-down Ford. It was the third time that week that it had stalled out. He sighed, It was just another item to add on to his 'to do' list. He'd get Soda and Steve to take a look at it in the morning.

There was an ominous glow that came from the diner across the street where a raven-haired waitress was locking up. She slammed the door and after hearing the click of the lock, she handed the key to her to the girl beside her.

"Goodnight Anne." She spoke as she pressed the key into her palm.

"See you tomorrow Cole."

The girl called Cole walked in the opposite direction of her friend tightening the elegant, cherry-red scarf that held her hair out of her face. She whistled loudly as if calling to a dog or trying to get someone's attention. Eyes darting, she gazed down the street, down the ally, and finally to the sky.

Nothing. She couldn't seem to find what she was looking for. Suddenly, sensing a stranger's eyes on her back, her eyes flashed backwards and met with Darry's.

For a minute she stared at him cautiously, and then she turned around and briskly made her way around the corner, out of sight.

"Soda! Pony! Who's making dinner?" Darry peered through the smoky kitchen, "I think something's burning."

"I've got it!" Soda hollered, running over to pull the blackened chicken out of the oven. "Oops, sorry 'bout that." He grinned.

Darry sighed, "One of these days you two are going to burn this house down."

"Hello Uncle," the girl bent over stiffly to kiss the aged man on his wrinkled cheek, "How was your day?" She said with as much compassion and respect as she could muster.

"Fine," He sighed, "Just fine." He patted her hand lovingly.

"It's late, Uncle, and you look tired," Her brow wrinkled.

"Yes, today was long, and this old man needs his rest. I am forced to say goodnight."

Assisting him from his chair, Cole leant her boney arm and helped him to his room down the hall.

"Goodnight my dear Cossette."

After the door was closed, the girl continued to make her way to the end of the hall. Upon entering her room, she glanced around at the window to her right and proceeded to open the top drawer of the dresser, digging deep in a pile of mismatched socks.

There was a hollow breeze outside, and then a rustle of wings and the girl jumped back, clutching a stitch on her chest.

"You're trying to kill me," It wasn't a question. She looked over at the windowsill where a small black bird was perched. A raven maybe, or was it a crow? Their eyes met and locked for a minute before she smiled warmly.

"You're back early this year, did it get to cold for you?" She turned her attention back on the drawer and pulled out a wooden cigar box. And, as if to keep it from the bird, she turned her back on the window and emptied her pockets.

"I saw you hiding earlier, you should've come out, but I know you were scared of that man." As if rejecting that statement the bird ruffled its wings. This caught her attention and she buried the box once more, made her way to the window, and offered her hand for the bird to move to. "He wouldn't have hurt you, you know."

She stroked its feathers for a while before speaking again.

"You must leave now," She placed him back on the windowsill and brushed his feathers. "It has been a tiresome day."

It stared curiously at her for a moment and then took off. She watched the bird disappear into the night sky, letting the breeze brush through her hair.

It was the kind of wind that makes a person shiver, the kind of draft that forces a person to shudder with emptiness. The girl did not fell those things. She kept the window wide open, as she did every night, closing her eyes as the air cut passed her cheek.

The chill kept her numb, keeping her alive. The chill kept her warm.

"Pony you have to remember to shut the windows!" Darry yelled to his little brother down the hall. "Geez, it's freezing in here." He muttered to himself, slamming the window and rubbing his arms.

His brother wasn't listening, though. Pony didn't understand the pain that the fall's chill caused for him, the memories it brought back. Darry shuttered. No, Pony was just a boy, he couldn't understand. Nor did Darry want him to.

Lying in bed that night, he closed his eyes hoping to find sleep, but there was a dull pain on his shoulder every time he moved. Thank God he only had a half day of work the next day. He took in a deep breath and then winced from the pain.

He gave up, turning to lie on his side, he could see a dark bird flying past his window.

When Darry got of work the next afternoon, he glanced over at the diner, half expecting the girl to appear from the door again. He walked slowly, but she didn't come out.

Cole. Cole. He repeated the name in his head, pondering over its origins.

Why was he so curious? He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could vaguely remember the gut-wrenching chill that swept through his body when her eyes met his. Her image stuck in his mind.