Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

The Exchange

That night, Clara lit the fire pit out back. She sat with needle and twine and stitched one of Elsie’s old socks into a small pouch. Inside it, she placed one lock of her hair, a spoonful of powdered milk, and a smooth river stone they’d collected on a family walk. Tom didn’t ask questions this time.

Before sunrise, Clara returned to the hilltop alone and laid the pouch inside the stone ring. No wind blew. No birds called. As she turned to leave, she felt the air shift behind her like a weight lifted. She no longer had that tense feeling of being watched.

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