15. Died Living
15 Died Living It took Claire twenty minutes to decide which room she wanted. Connor chose the one closest to the kitchen. “You can pick first,” Jacob said as Emilia got up from the floor, leaving the warmth of the woodstove behind. “I don’t care.” Emilia ran her fingers through her hair. The wind from the boat had tangled it. She should brush her hair or eat, probably shower, too. But all she wanted was sleep. She walked to the room next to Claire’s. The only furniture was a tiny dresser with chipped paint, a chair by the vine-covered window, and a bed with a frame made of roughly hewn wood. The tiny branches had been sawed off, and the shellac that covered the bark reflected the light of the cracked ceramic lamp. “How’s the room?” Jacob peeked in. “Not what I expected from Aunt Iz
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