Thomas reached forward to Sarah’s sleeping form and pulled the covers over her. Evidently, the fur didn’t help much in keeping the cold out. In fact, Thomas had noticed that the last time they went to play in the backyard— after doing a preliminary sweep to make sure none of the monsters were out there— Sarah shivered much more than he did, especially when she stepped on a part of the grass that had frosted over. It’d been two weeks since then and the temperature was only getting lower.

Luckily, she hadn’t gotten sick from the cold, but it concerned Thomas and Linda. They both looked through the guide they’d gotten from the hospital and found nothing on sensitivity to cold.

Thomas finished tucking her in and looked at the pillow she was resting on. It’d been at least a month since he’d had the urge to grab it and end this all. He gave Sarah one last look to make sure she wasn’t shivering anymore, got up, and sighed a little. Maybe there’ll be something on the news about this.

He left the room and proceeded into the living room. Linda was already on the couch soaking up the news. “Have they covered anything about the cold?” Thomas asked.

Linda didn’t turn away from the screen. “No, they’re still just covering that...” Linda clenched her teeth, “place.”

“It was bad enough when the streets were in chaos, but now this.” Thomas shook his head as he sat down next to Linda. But we need to know what’s changed.

“... going on for blocks,” said an enthusiastic new reporter. The camera panned back to reveal a huge amount of people in a long thick line that eventually disappeared around a corner. “I’ve been covering premieres and red carpets in this town for years and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

The glow of the TV reflected in Thomas and Linda’s eyes as it switched from the busy LA street to a newsroom. “Thank you Michele,” said an older looking anchorman. “Now this is obviously an improvement over the ‘potion riots’ at the beginning of the Equestrian Emergence, but how tight is security down there?”

“Well,” said Michele, “we haven’t gotten all the details in order to ensure protection...” She gestured to the people in body armor walking around the crowd. “But you clearly see the police and national guard keeping the line in check.”

“And what about at the actual Bureau?”

“Same thing with a little higher level of protection.” The camera turned away from Michele and focussed on the building where the line ended. A fence had been erected around it with a national guardsmen standing about a yard away from each other all around the perimeter. There was only one break in the fence where all the people were filing through, but only about a dozen at a time.

The building itself wasn’t anything spectacular, it actually looked a little run down. There were a few places along its walls where the stucco was pealing. The weathered look of the building only helped highlight the new sign though. It was quite simple, just two silhouettes. Thomas gritted his teeth a little at the sight of it: a pony and a human shaking hands.

“Now, we understand that we can’t get into the actual Bureau, but does anyone there know what it’s like inside?” asked the anchorman.

“Yes Chris.” Michele then walked closer to the crowd and held the camera up to a man who appeared to be around a his forties. “Alright sir, cameras are live, mind telling us what the Bureaus are like?”

“Sure,” the man bellowed. “My brother was one of the lucky ones and got in first, went with his whole family. Lucky guy even got to see those harmony ponies or whatever fancy label they got give the opening speech. He was fresh out of the Bureau when he saw me, so I think he might have still been a little loopy from conversion. I was able to pick past most of the glamour he put on the Bureau though. Honestly, the place itself just sounds like a doctor’s office. You go in, you get your meds, you get rehabilitated, and you go home.”

“You said your brother was ‘loopy’ when he got back, what did you mean by that?” asked Michele as she moved the mic closer.

“My brother was and is a good man, but he was also pretty uptight. The last few years hadn’t been good on him and his family. Poor guy worked himself to the bone to keep them healthy. There were couple of nights where he’d stay with me and the missus. Those were very long nights.”

The man raised a hand and scratched his head. “Then he comes to my house, practically tripping over his hooves and says he’s sorry if he’d been a bother and was acting like the streets were paved with gold.” He chuckled a little. “I hadn’t seen my brother that happy since his little girl was born.”

The camera panned away from the man and back to Michele. “A very heartwarming story and an interesting look into the bureaus. Chris, back to you.”

“What is wrong with these people?” Linda beat Thomas to speaking what was on both their minds.

“I don’t know honey,” Thomas replied. Madness, the entire world has gone mad. He reached out to grab the remote, but something caught his eye.

“... prompting police to use tear gas. While the Bureau only has one functioning location in LA, plans to open in other major cities have been met by protesting and riots.” The screen shifted from Chris to still pictures of police confronting protesters and lobbing gas grenades into the their ranks. A sign could clearly made out that read, “Abominations Burn!” More pictures flashed while Chris described the riot, but neither Thomas nor Linda was listening. They were instead focussed on the faces in the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Linda bit her lip a little. “That’s Nicholas from the bakery and Mary from the flower shop.”

“No.” Thomas focussed his eyes and looked into the pictures more. “It’s not just them, Kingston, George, Elizabeth... my god, at least half the church is there!”

Linda reached out and grabbed Thomas’s arm. “What’s happened? I know we said becoming those things was wrong but this...” A picture flashed by of a police bringing down his baton on Alex, he worked at a hotel downtown. Linda gripped Thomas harder. “This isn’t right.”

Thomas was unmoving, his eyes glued to the screen. A small bit of sweat dribbled down the side of his face. If they’re willing to go to arms with fellow men... That thought kept Thomas up for the rest of the night.

Thomas awoke to someone shaking him. “Thomas, Thomas get up!”

He sat up almost instantly and nearly smacked Linda with his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?!”

“Just... just come and look,” she stuttered.

He threw on whatever clothing was at the top of his dresser and ventured out into the hallway with Linda leading the way. She stopped at the front door. “It’s outside,” she muttered.

“What is?” Thomas’s heart beat faster as he inched his hand onto the doorknob. He took a deep breath and let the cold morning air wash over him. He looked outside but saw nothing. “Linda, I don’t understand. What’s...” Then it entered his vision. It was a small cardboard box that looked like a five year old had taped it up. “Linda? What is this?”

Thomas turned to see that Linda had produced a small letter of some some kind. “It was them,” she whispered. Her hands shook as Thomas snatched the letter from her.

Like the tape, the writing was crude at best. Thomas was forced to squint his eyes and re-read the letter a few times. Every time his eyes went over it, his expression darkened more and more. Finally, after the fourth readthrough, he was able to make out the sloppy handwriting or rather hoofwriting:

I think we got off on the wrong foot. My wife admits it was wrong to be snooping around, but I’m also displeased at the rather nasty hit you gave her nose. Perhaps it’s a family issue, but we would like to get to know you better as neighbors so it doesn’t happen again in the future. Also, my wife noticed your daughter’s a Earth Pony. One of my friends was having issues with the cold, so hopefully the gift will help.

Sincerely,

Cobalt Glint & Sunset

Thomas stared at the letter for a bit after finishing it. He was aware Linda was also reading it, but wasn’t really paying attention to the outside world. Right now, there was only him, the letter, and the box. Anything could be in it: devil snares, tricks, a one way ticket to Hell. He put the letter on the small table and swapped it with a set of keys he kept there for doors and the mailbox.

As he got closer to the box, something grabbed his arm and tried to hold him back. “Thomas wait!” Linda pleaded. “You have no idea what could be in there.”

“I know,” Thomas stoically replied, not turning to face his wife. “But we can’t leave it outside or they’ll come back, and if we take it inside before we know what it is, we could all die. He got down near the box and held out one of the keys like it was a knife. “I want you to stand back while I open this.” He didn’t look back, but the footsteps grew slightly fainter and told Thomas that Linda had listened.

He turned his attention back to the box. Slowly, painfully slowly, he lowered the key and broke the masking tape with it. He felt it was safer than pulling the tape off. He brought the key up and down in a sawing motion and brought it closer to himself as more and more of the tape split. About halfway through, he had to stop cutting to flex his hands and get the blood circulating to them again. I should have gone back inside and gotten gloves.

It was too late now, he’d already cut too much. If there was a timer or some other insidious device, it might have already been triggered. Getting up to get warmer clothes could have prompted Linda to examine the box. If something in it went off then... Thomas wouldn’t allow it. He’d nearly lost Sarah, he wouldn’t let the same happen to Linda.

He rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit and then returned to work. More tape fell back and the box began to open of its own accord. Thomas reached out and prevented the top flaps from opening too far though. Despite the cold air that was blowing that morning, a decent amount of sweat had accumulated on Thomas’s brow as the final vestiges of the tape gave way to the key. The only thing that was keeping the box from opening now was Thomas’s hand.

He put the keys on the porch and inched his other hand over to the box as well. He grabbed the two flaps the kept the box’s contents hidden. He paused for a second and offered a prayer. Lord, keep my family safe.

For what felt like an eternity, Thomas raised the folds on the box, fully expecting to be consumed hellfire at any moment. Just as the inside of the box came into view, Thomas closed his eyes and braced himself. Yet, the frigid wind continued to bring goosebumps to his body. He dare to cautiously open his eyes and saw... boots.

Four boots to be exact. They were quite odd looking a well, they looked more like tubes with one end sealed off rather than proper boots. Yet the open ends were lined with wool and the stitching clearly matched that of winter wear. The tension in Thomas’s face gave way to curiosity. He reached out and picked one up. However, the texture was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Despite looking like leather, the outer material of the boots was soft and almost fluffy in quality.

“What is it?” came a voice from behind Thomas. He turned to see Linda right behind him.

How long has she been here? “I thought I told you to wait inside,” Thomas growled.

“I... I saw you open the box and thought it was safe an— are those boots?”

“Not human ones,” Thomas sighed and passed one of them to her.

She fiddled with the boot a bit and ran her hand along both the inside and outside of it. “There’s definitely wool on the inside, but the outside... I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“I thought the same thing.” Thomas picked up another boot and examined it from various angles. Suddenly, his stomach gave a large rumble. “This has been a tough morning. Lets get this inside and have some breakfast. We... we’ll give these to Sarah when she gets up.”

“These are awesome!” Sarah yelled at the top of her lungs as he tapped her new boots to the ground. She gave Thomas a deep hug. “I love them daddy!”

“You’re sure?” He asked with trepidation, still unsure of the trustworthiness of the gift. “It doesn’t feel odd or anything?”

“Nope!” Sarah smiled. “They’re warm, and comfy, and...” She paused and looked down at the boots and held one of her legs up to her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well...” She fidgeted in the boots a little. “Usually, clothes feel different than this.” She bit into one of the boots and pulled it off, then she placed a hoof on Thomas’s shirt. “Like your clothes Daddy. They were made somewhere near the ocean, but it was really hot so only a little bit of stuff in your clothes was able to grow. It’s also kind of fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” Thomas looked down at the polo shirt he’d switched into after dealing with the box. He pulled the collar around to his face and scanned the tag:

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped. “Your clothes are all fuzzy, but not like soft fuzzy, more like my eyes are covered.” She tapped one of her booted hoofs to the ground. “This stuff is even weirder though.”

“Weird how, sweetie?” Linda asked, curiosity and caution in her voice.

“Um.” Sarah looked down and swirled her unbooted hoof around in circles. “I don’t really know, but I know daddy’s shirt is from the ocean place, but these boots are from... bubbly.”

“Bubbly?” both her parents asked.

“Yeah, like looking at a big giant bubble...” Sarah corked her head. “Mommy, are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“I... I’m fine sweetie,” Linda stuttered. She placed a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Why don’t you try getting used to wearing your boots?” She yanked a little on Thomas and he silently got up.

While Sarah was playing with her new boots, Thomas and Linda made their way out of the kitchen and into the hallway. “You noticed it too, right?” Linda asked.

“Yes,” Thomas shakily replied. “That packet mentioned these...” He shuddered a little. “... effects.”

“What do we do?” Linda said with eyes as wide as saucer plates.

“We pray.” Thomas clasped his hands around Linda’s shoulders. “Sarah is still getting used to this, we all are. It will be fine.” He took his hands off Linda and mustered all his strength to crack a small smile. “Are you well enough to cook?”

“Y-yes.” Linda turned and headed back to the kitchen. “Let’s... let’s get some food.”

“While cooler weather only poses the same health risks as it does to humans, the real danger of winter comes from ponies’ new sensitivity,” said a news reporter. “However, each subspecies experiences weather differently. Tonight, we have our experts on new converts and Equestrian delegates to discuss these issues with us.”

The camera panned over to show a red Earth pony with a white and black mane, a tan unicorn with an orange mane, and a brown pegasus with an equally brown mane.

“It’s them,” Linda mumbled.

Thomas brought over a hand to his wife and pulled her a little closer. “I know, but we have to deal with this for Sarah’s sake.”

“First off, could we get some introductions? I know most viewers know you by human names, but have you changed your names by now?”

“Heh, most of us changed our names before the Emergence Event,” said the red pony. He waved a hoof over at the brown one. “‘Star’ here is the only one who hasn’t really changed his name yet.”

“C’mon Pint, we’re on national television! You’ll just confuse everypony,” the brown pegasus replied.

“Boys,” the unicorn sighed. She then looked over at the interviewer. “I guess I’ll start. You can call me Sun Searcher.”

“Pleasure to have you with us Sun,” said the interviewer. “Can you break down weather for us?”

“Actually unicorns are the subspecies with the least sensitivity to the weather. Artificial heating is where we have a problem.”

“How so?” asked the interviewer.

“As you’re aware, newfoal unicorns are essentially miniature EMPs,” Sun explained. “They can’t control their magic and so it leaks into stuff around it. It’s a lot like electricity in that it seeks that fastest conductor but it also sends feedback to its owner. The New Orleans disaster and the Akihabara blackout showed just how important it was to teach newfoal unicorns magic control.”

The interviewer tapped on his chair a little.“So unicorns suffer no ill effects from the weather?”

“No,” Sun replied, “every newfoal, no matter what subspecies gains heightened senses. That’s why the bureau in L.A. was set up in a building with many windows. That way, newfoals are exposed to the sun during conversion, ensuring the worst effects of conversion are minimized.”

“Interesting.” The interviewer now turned to the pegasus. “Your name?”

“Why can’t they just interview the Earth pony and get this over with?” Linda asked.

“Just bear it,” Thomas said. He then focussed his attention back on the screen.

“...canti,” the pegasus finished. “First, thanks for calling me an expert, but I’m far from it. Wish we could get some natives over here, then we’d have real experts.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow. “Is the weather system in Equestria much different from Earth’s.”

“Kind of,” John explained. “Weather, save for a few locations like the Everfree, is all hoof made there. Sun has seen it more than I have, but Equestria can be said to have a completely accurate calendar that perfectly maps the seasons. But that’s an issue for another time, we’re talking about how ponies deal with weather here.”

“Sorry if we went a little off track,” the interviewer replied.

“It’s fine,” said John. “Anyway, pegasi sensitivity is probably the most constant of the subspecies. We just need a whiff of fresh air and our bodies can pick up everything about the weather: temperature, forecast, and even air currents. I stumbled quite a bit when I went outside for the first time. However, we’ve also got a lot more resilience to weather. At the beginning of the Emergence Event, my friend Sky got hit by a thunderstorm he created. He was up and moving a few days later. Crazy, right?”

“Indeed,” replied the interviewer. “Now then, let’s move onto our final guest.” The camera shifted over to the Earth pony.

“‘ello, name’s Pint,” the pony said with a smile. Thomas and Linda inched their faces a little closer to the TV.

“Great to have you with us,” said the interviewer. “I’m sure many of our viewers are interested in what you have to say, as your subspecies is the most common. Could you break down Earth pony sensitivity for us?”

“Sure,” replied Pint. “I still remember how just touching my clothes nearly popped my head when this all started. I’m not as sensitive as John here, but you put my hooves on something organic and my brain turns into the best search engine in the world. It fades over time, but the first time you touch anything new, it’s gonna hit you hard.”

Pint raised up his hooves and showed off a boot. “These things are great though. They block out most of the sensations of the ground. Plus, they’re Equestrian made so to me they’re softer than anything on this planet. Princess did a great job sending out as many as she could to this side. I’ve heard we’ve had shortages here and there though.”

“Yes,” the interviewer commented. “Some cities have run out of the boots, but major clothes designers are working on making replacements.”

“Are they?” Pint suppressed a chuckle. “Better not use leather or any other animal products for the boots then. Nopony will buy those. See, with Earth ponies, you make us wear something dead and we’ll get as queasy as if we ate a cheeseburger.”

“Well, time is wrapping up,” explained the interviewer. “Any final remarks?”

“John, you wanna take this?” Sun asked.

“You’re just like Pint,” John sighed. He then faced the camera. “Newfoals, just be careful outside and wear the proper clothing... never thought I’d be saying that after all this.”

“Well, thank you all for your time. Adam, back to you.”

Thomas clicked the TV off. His fists shook a little.

“Thomas?” Linda cautiously asked.

“They gave us poison,” he muttered. “They gave us stuff straight from the deepest level of the pit.”

“I... I know, but...”

Thomas sucked in his breath and clasped his hands tighter. “We’ll get proper clothing for her as soon as it comes. I won’t have her get sick again.” He slammed a fist into the couch. “Why? Why does he keep tormenting me?!”

Linda reached forward and patted his back and embraced him. “I’m sorry Thomas, I’m so sorry.”

“Alright Sarah, we’re going to go outside for just a little,” Thomas explained. He’d checked everything: when the high would be, when it was a clear day, and— most importantly— when there wouldn’t be a “weather patrol” out. Like harpies, they hummed through the sky, defying nature and shaping it to their will. It was a mockery to all things good in this world. People heralded them for their trickery. Reduced snow, fewer accidents because of ice, and reduced heating costs all pushed many people to sell their souls. Thomas felt a pang of worry when the other people who disliked the weather patrol were school children for lack of snow days and electric companies for lack of heating profits.

Staying inside for long periods of time was taking its toll. Thomas often woke up in the middle of the night, visions of the flask being thrown at him by Sarah haunting him. Linda was bereft of most of the problems as she did the shopping for the family and was looking to get a job as Thomas’s paychecks would soon run out.

Sarah was also getting fidgety. There hadn’t been any outright tantrums yet, but signs of a meltdown were showing. Sarah had managed to accidentally smash a few plates and cracked one of her bed posts in her sleep. She needed to expend some of her energy.

Thus, today he found himself standing near his back door in winter wear, with Sarah next to him. She was wearing her boots along with a jacket that looked bizarrely misshapen on a pony. Thomas wasn’t taking any risks with her though. “Are you ready?” he asked her.

“Uh-huh!” she happily replied. She looked about ready to kick down the door herself if Thomas didn’t open it in the next ten seconds.

Luckily, he did and felt the cold air of winter wash over them. Still, it was only in the low forties now, so it wasn’t too bad given the time of year. Thomas looked down at the ground and saw that the ice on the cement porch had mostly melted, leaving only thin strips of ice floating in cold puddles. The actual yard was covered in a decent amount of snow, although there were a few spots where the frozen grass poked out. “Alright Sarah, now remember what I said about the cold an—”

A small blur of pink, purple, and white dashed past him and bounded into the snow. “Yay! Snow! I didn’t get to play with it last year!” Sarah nearly sang with joy. She playfully kicked around large chunks of snow around and shuffled through the yard.

“Sarah, what did I say about being careful?”

Sarah stopped playing and tranced circles in the snow with a hoof. “Sorry daddy.”

“It’s fine, just don’t get too excited. You don’t want to get sick again, right?”

“Nuh-uh!” Sarah vigorously shook her head back and forth.

“Good, then let’s play a little.”

“Okay! Can we do a snowball fight?”

“I...” Thomas stopped himself. Better she learn this now. “Yes, that sounds fine. Why don’t you get some ammo ready?”

“I’m gonna make you a snowman!” Sarah pulled a mound of snow closer to her and pressed it between her hooves. However, what she produced couldn’t be called a ball in the loosest definition of the word. It was lumpy in some places while flat in others. It definitely had the compression necessary for a snowball, but it was still connected to the ground. Sarah tried to nudge it from its base, but that only managed to shatter it into large clumps. “This is harder than I remember.”

Thomas squatted down next to her, grabbed a large chunk of Sarah’s snow and formed it into a proper snowball. “Things have gotten ha—” A face full of snow cut him off.

“I got you! I got you!” Sarah exclaimed with glee while Thomas wiped off his face and playfully chucked the snowball at Sarah. It hit her on the side and splattered into flakes. “Ack!”

“I told you to be careful, I have a mean throwing arm,” Thomas joked. That’s right, we never did have a snowball fight with her. His smile died a little. I guess we never will. “Sarah, why don’t we make a snowman?”

“Okay!” She tapped a boot into the snow. “I think I can’t make snowballs anymore anyways.”

For the next half-hour, the two worked on erecting a snowman that took nearly all the snow in the backyard to make. Although it really came down to Thomas shaping the snow and making it look like Sarah was doing most of the work. When they were done, the finished product was more of a snow abstract art piece than a man. Each of the three large pieces that made up its body were so radically different from each other that it was a miracle they all somehow combined and held each other up. The fact that it was already melting didn’t help much either.

“Daddy, I think our snowman is sick,” Sarah commented as she watched one of its twig arms slurp out of its torso.

“I never really was a good snowman maker.” For a second, Thomas recalled creating a giant snow fort as a child and even getting a picture of it in the local paper. “We probably just need more snow.” He gazed at the ground and noted that there was just slush and dead grass there now. “We can always try again next time.”

“Okay.” Sarah looked away from the snowman thing at the yard as well and frowned.

“Is something wrong?” Thomas asked with concern.

“Well, all the plants look sad. I thought snow makes everyone happy.”

Thomas thought of all the times snow had made his short drive to church a trial in patience. He was tempted to say that snow is both good and bad, but then noticed Sarah taking off one of her boots. “Sarah! What in the lord’s name are you doing?!” Oh god, she’ll get sick!

“It’s okay, I just want to make sure the plants are okay.” Before Thomas could stop her, she put a bare hoof to the frozen ground. She instantly began shivering. Her eyes teared up as well.

Thomas rushed over. “Sarah! Get your boot on now!” He reached down to pick her up.

“Wait!” Thomas’s hand stopped inches away from her. “The plants,” she sobbed, “there were so many here before, now there’s only a few and they’re all quiet.” She turned up to Thomas as tears continued streaking down her face. “Daddy! You have to help them! They’re too cold!”

“Sarah! I’m more worried about you! You’re going to get cold too! Now come back ins—”

“No! Not until the plants are ha— huh?!” She looked down and noticed some small sprouts growing around her hoof. “Daddy! Daddy! The plants, they’re noisy again!”

“Sarah, you’re getting overloaded by the cold! We need to... to...” He looked at her hoof and saw a small bud appear on one of the sprouts. “What are you doing?”

“I made the plan—” Thomas silenced her by scooping her up with a single hand and dumping her on the cement porch. He could now fully see the area Sarah had affected. Where once there had only been frozen dirt and dead grass, there was now fresh green blades, stems, and buds. It was a patch of spring in the dead of winter.

Thomas reached down and hesitated a second before touching the vibrant patch. It was warm to the touch, as if the snow around it didn’t even exist. It was such a small thing, yet in its frozen surroundings it was truly a beautiful thing. It’s blasphemy. It’s worse than the weather patrol, they only affect what’s already there. This... “Sarah, we’re going inside.”

“But the rest of the yard...”

“Now!” he commanded. He got up, stormed over to the door, and flung it open. He glared at Sarah and she slowly trotted back in, her eyes glued to the ground. For a second, while Sarah’s back was turned, Thomas looked at the green and let his barriers fall. He shuddered, took a deep breath, and recomposed himself. He prayed new snow would bury the abomination.

As soon as he closed the door, he looked down at her. She still had her eyes glued to the ground. “Go to your room, get your boots and jacket off, and read your book.”

“Yes daddy,” she murmured before disappearing into her room.

“It was terrible Linda,” Thomas explained while Linda stirred some vegetables soup around. “It was wrong. It’s winter, nature is cold at this time of year and she defied that.”

“Thomas...” Linda set the ladle aside for a second. “It was probably just an accident, wrongful curiosity that you corrected.” The trembling in her voice betrayed the comfort her words were meant to carry.

“I pray you’re right.”

“Lets just have some soup and give thanks as a family,” Linda replied. She poured a bowl for Thomas and set it at the table for him. “I’ll get Sarah and then I’ll serve her and myself.”

Linda left the kitchen and wandered down the hall to Sarah’s room. She gave a small knock on the door. “Sweetie, dinner’s ready. I made the soup you like.”

“I’m not hungry,” came a faint voice from beyond the door.

“Sarah, is something wrong?” Linda reached for the doorknob and got ready to enter the room.

“Daddy’s going to be mad.”

Linda took a deep breath. “Sarah... your father just got a little upset, but he’s better now. Things are just hard for him. Please, come have dinner.”

“I can’t,” Sarah hiccupped. “He’s going to hate me again!”

Linda’s heartbeat quickened. “Sarah, whatever is wrong, your father and I will understand.”

“I... I shouldn’t have played outside.”

Oh no! Is she sick again?

“No! No! Go away!” The covers violently shifted.

“Thomas! Thomas get in here!” Linda yelled.

“What? What’s wrong?!” Thomas yelled in a panic. He was in the room instantly.

“It’s Sarah.” Tears began to flow down Linda’s cheeks. “I think she caught something.”

“No.” The panic in Thomas’s eyes went out and was replaced with pure dread. “Is it a fever like last time?”

“I... I don’t know. I haven’t... I haven’t checked yet,” Linda stuttered.

Thomas said nothing. He simply bounded over to Sarah’s bed and grabbed the covers.

“No daddy! Please!” Sarah screamed.

“I’m doing this to help you! I won’t let you get sick again!” he yelled back and yanked at the covers.

“Mommy! Help! He’ll hate me! He’ll hate me!” Sarah’s voice was now rough and mixed with sobs. Her head emerged from the coveres and bit into the them.

“Stop this!” Thomas roared. He yanked again and the covers were in the air, along with Sarah. She dangled on the edge of the sheets for a second and then fell to the ground. Thomas turned white. “Jesus! Sarah! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!”

“Don’t look,” Sarah whimpered. “Please don’t look.”

Thomas got on his knees. “It’s okay Sweetie.” He reached out a hand and pressed it against her head. It felt perfectly normal temperature wise. “I just wanted to make sure you were...”

Everything froze. Thomas’s blood turned icier than the harshest of winters. It was like being back at the hospital all over again. The devil was merciless. A small familiar symbol was now branded onto Sarah’s side. The sign of the Lord himself: a simple fish outline. The holy mark was now the devil’s calling card.

Thomas screamed and collapsed.