Inside the main hut, Jon—Sarah’s father—woke with a smile.
Today was his daughter’s traditional wedding.
“My daughter is becoming a wife today,” he murmured proudly.
He walked to Sarah’s hut and called cheerfully, “Sarah! Wake up! It’s your big day!”
He pushed open the door.
Her mat was empty.
Her wrapper was neatly folded at the side.
Jon frowned. At first he thought maybe she had gone to fetch water. But as the sun rose higher and Sarah still did not return, his smile disappeared.
He went to Agnes’s hut and knocked.
“Did you send Sarah on an errand this morning?” he asked.
Agnes opened the door slowly, pretending to have just woken up.
“No. I have not even seen her.”
He turned to the children.
“Have any of you seen Sarah?”
Isidora shook her head quickly. “No, Papa.”
Matilda, the youngest, hesitated.
“But Papa,” she said slowly, “I heard Sarah’s voice early this morning. And Stepmother’s voice too.”
“Shut up!” Isidora shouted.
Jon turned sharply.
“Why are you shouting at your sister?”
Isidora looked down. “Maybe she was dreaming.”
Jon’s stomach tightened.
Now he knew something was wrong.
He searched everywhere—the stream, the paths, the nearby bushes—but there was no sign of Sarah. By the time he returned, his forehead was wet with sweat and fear sat heavily in his chest.
“I cannot find her,” he said.
The compound went silent.
