The Anathema

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Emily had just finished tying a bow on the present she’d selected for her father, a tie-pin he probably wouldn’t like that she had bought in an antique store during a visit to Taos, when she pushed the curtain aside to see if it was snowing, and it officially became her worst Christmas ever. This was, in all fairness, saying something when it came to Emily Muir.

Not because her father would not like the tiepin. George Muir, after all, was not high on Emily’s list of favorite people, expressing disappointment in Emily so consistently that she had resigned herself to it. Instead, it was the two people strolling through the quad, holding hands, who were ruining the holiday season for her. She did not recognize either of them at first, but then she saw the hat the taller one was wearing, and that she knew immediately. She had seen it take shape, after all; stuffed in the knitting basket Eerie arrived and left with when she visited Alex at the hospital.

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