“This place will never do,” Aaron shook his head.
“It’ll have to,” Ella tucked the edges of frustration back into the crevices that practice had made almost foolproof. Almost. One could not get complacent.
She’d seen what happened when one did, and the cost was never worth the temptation of release.
“We’ll make it work,” she added before Aaron could add argument to what they both knew will have to be managed anyway.
The steep plot of thicket-covered land was all they had. A measly inheritance, perhaps, but better than the debtor’s jail … and the ways one had to pay debts with one’s body. Piecemeal. By the hour. By the man. They could neither of them survive it again.
“It is a long way down,” Aaron acquiesced. “The stairs are rotted.”
“A longer way up for those who do not know the path,” Ella smiled. “We’ll do fine.”
For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge