fourteen
“Enough?” I toss a few blankets on the bed, making sure we stay warm tonight. Sangmo and I sleep in my old room tonight—the room Father expelled me to after Mother died. Or at least, that’s what it had felt like to me. I used to sleep with Mother in the kitchen or all three of us slept in my parents’ bed. Warm, cozy. But after Mother’s passing, Father had a bed made for me alone, and put it in this room.
Sangmo rearranges the blankets. The room fits only one bed. A single window looks out at the old barn. My hands slide along the ledge, and my thoughts drift out to the night sky. Hard to believe I actually fit through this tiny window once. My gateway to freedom. I snuck out many times, mostly at night, to find solace with my pony. Father must have known. The way he picked the h
