Sunlight played tricks on the eyes, the way it always did. It tricked Annabelle's eyes into seeing an army of ants dancing every time the wind blew and her twin looking up at her from the depths every time she bent forward. Unable to save her, Annabelle watched her sister disappear in the ripples sent by wandering willow fingers.
 Finally overwhelmed by the sight of her own distruction, she leaned back against the tree trunk and stared upwards. Green light broke through the barrier in patches, showering Annabelle with what felt like the most benevolent and reassuring gaze.
 'Willow tree,' she thought, 'you really are the most rebellious of trees, aren't you? Your Father tells you to grow tall and embrace the sky above but you don't. You grow tall, yes, but then fall back to embrace the earth... to sweetly kiss the mirror lake's surface.
 'How do you find your strength, your escape, your true path? Is it your flexibility... allowing yourself to be guided by the wind? Is that your only secret? Do you just give yourself up to the hands of Fate and anxiously wait for them to mold your destiny for you?
 'Ah, but you're a tree. You know nothing of human anxiety or impatience. If only I could forget...
 'But are you in the right? Why do you not embrace the heavens? Do you simply fear falling, ending your life in misery, disaster? Or worse, do you- in your ignorance- mistake reflections for reality?
 Squeezing her eyes tight she sent a prayer for her friend, the tree. 'Please be right, and please be happy...'
 "Annabelle?!" the voice cajoled from behind her, muffled by the line of bushes. "Annabelle, where are you?"
 A bluebird trilled and dove through the willow fingers above her, quickly settling into its nest to feed its young.
 "Annabelle?"
 The bushes rustled for a moment, but Annabelle could soon hear the plodding of footsteps carrying the voice away.
 She then remembered to breathe.
 'Just a few more minutes...' she thought to herself, 'then I'll go back. Mother's probably worried sick by now.'

 "Annabelle! You silly thing, where have you gone off to?" her mother asked her a quarter hour later as Annabelle meekly stepped through the wide maple doors and into the Bastons' parlor. She and Mrs. Baston were both sitting around the table, already sipping their tea.
 "I sent Jeremiah out to fetch you and he said that he couldn't find you anywhere."
 The door clicked shut behind Annabelle. Jeremiah, who had been hidden behind the door, now strode forward to offer her his arm. She didn't have to see him to know that he was smiling, triumphant.
 "I'm sorry Mother, Mrs. Baston, Jeremiah... I must have fallen asleep out in the garden. Please forgive me."
 "Oh, of course, dear," Gloria Baston cried, "it is my belief that a lady of your age should take brief naps in the afternoon to keep herself lively. Don't you think so, Marie? I only wish that you would sleep indoors- we wouldn't want you to fall ill, afterall!"
 "I don't know how you find the grace to forgive her for her rude behavior. You have much to teach me of patience."
 Annabelle bit her tongue and gracefully allowed Jeremiah to pull out a chair for her. "Mrs. Baston, Gloria, I must say that your grounds are absolutely gorgeous."
 "Why thank you, dear," she giggled, "They will be yours soon enough. Here, have one of these muffins. They're my cook's specialty- quite delicious."
 Annabelle accepted the treat and poured herself a cup of tea. "Would you care for some tea, Jeremiah?" The hairs on the back of her neck were following his every movement as her eyes strained not to.
 "No, thank you. I really must be going. I wouldn't want to intrude upon you ladies any longer," he dodged, "but thank you for the offer."
 The mother geese watched him go and begged half-heartedly that he stay, but soon moved on to gossiping as soon as he was gone. Annabelle smiled when she was supposed to durring their cajoling and kept her gaze strictly on her tea.
 
 "Annabelle!" her mother hissed as soon as they were safely behind closed doors, "I'm very dissappointed in you." Dinner was approaching, and not at all distant, so this would thankfully be a very brief scolding. "You shall not disgrace me like that again, do you hear? Do you not want this match? Do you want to die a miserable, impoverished old hag? Sometimes I really think you do. Now, go get dressed. I'm too angry to look at you."
 "Yes, mother."
 Marie Cuthbert watched her daughter calmly turn and disappear behind ther bedroom door with a gentle click. She then turned and did her best to do the same- so with a loud thud she began her breathing exercises.
 
 The men who had been out riding all afternoon returned just in time for dinner. Mr. Cuthbert was grasping Jeremiah's shoulder and laughing as they walked in. Though soon collecting his composure, continued smiling throughout dinner. Mr. Baston joked with Annabelle throughout the meal and Annabelle laughed with him, but her smile never reached her eyes.
 Conversation easily turned to the nuptuals, and back to hunting again, to grandchildren and parenting advice and then the neighbors.
 It was several hours and glasses of wine later that Annabelle fell into bed crying. Her crystalline facade survived everything but the death of the last candle's flickering light.
 
 Annabelle's tears were gone by the next morning, leaving her empty once more. When she awoke the sun was still tucked tightly in bed. She knew it had to be almost morning, though, so she wiped the remainders of sleep from her eyes and got dressed. Her unruly hair needed replaiting so she sat at the vanity provided for her and quickly got to work.
 By the time Annabelle slipped on her shoes and made it out the door the sky was already changing colors, from black to green to orange. She slowly made her way down a path she thought she picked at random. Only when she saw the fork did her slowly rousing mind realize why she had chosen it. The forest path she had been unable to explore the day before was standing right in front of her, open and welcoming.
 There was no decision process to halt her progress toward the forest's mouth and she was soon engulfed by green darkness.

 Back in the house, Jeremiah watched her go. His bride, his future... he was sure he could love her in a heartbeat. They had been the best of friends so easily when they were younger. Why did she have to be so cold now? She didn't have to marry him, afterall...
 A sliver of thought nudged at the back of his sleepy mind as he stared at the now empty path. Turning back to his room in mild irritation, at both Annabelle and the nagging thought, he decided to get dressed.