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Thanksgiving arrived without any other surprises or concerns. Scents of woodsmoke drifted up from chimneys and out across the single story wooden homes that rested close together along the backdrop of red and orange oaks that rolled into the fog kissed hills. All along the sleepy streets of Mystic Country, families greeted one another at front doors after months apart, and welcomed loves ones into fire-warmed foyers. The weather was calm. A light snow was predicted to fall in the evening, but only for an hour. All was quiet.

The boys were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Sarah entered, her cheekbone slightly less swollen. The scents of buttered crusts and cheeses filled the room.

“Smells good!” she said as she breathed in deep through her nose.

“Shrimp quiche and buttered ham,” said Ethan.

She began to fill their drinking glasses with ice and set them on their dining room table. They had set out their nicer dishes instead of their usual plastic dinner trays. The plates were all different and unrefined, but each held its own charm. One was china, with gold filigree lining the edges, another was porcelain with blue circles in its interior, and Sarah’s plate was from Portugal, with paintings of chickens etched on its outer lip in bright oranges, greens, yellows, and reds.

Aiden brought the serving platters in and placed them at the table’s center.

“You’re saying grace,” he said as he thumped her arm.

“Okay,” she replied.

Ethan removed a batch of buttered rolls from the oven and placed them in a woven bowl then joined them. They all joined hands and bowed their heads.

“Well, thank you God for another year,” said Sarah.

“Thank you for family, and for our blessings and opportunities. Thank you for everything we have, and have received, and thank you for everything yet to come. Amen.”

“Amen,” said the boys.

They ate their meal and had pumpkin pie with whipped cream for desert. Afterwards, they laughed and watched The Empire Strikes Back on one of the working television channels. Ethan fell asleep less than halfway in, but Aiden finished the entire movie. As the credits began to roll to the familiar score, he stretched out on the couch. Sarah stood and walked her empty desert plate to the kitchen. She was near the sink when the plate slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor at her feet. Startled, both boys bolted upright.

“Sarah?” asked Ethan as they both turned to her.

There was not a response. She wasn’t walking anymore. Rigidity had locked her body, except for her arms, which were twitching at her sides. Ssuddenly, she vomited forward, spitting up her dinner onto her clothes and the floor.

“You okay?!” asked Aiden as he quickly got up from the couch.

Seeing her caused Aiden to move even faster. Her skin was pale and moist from sweat, and her eyes had rolled into the back of her sockets.

“Jesus Christ!” said Ethan as they rushed to her.

“Aiden…” she mumbled nearly incoherently.

Then she dropped.

Before the boys could reach her, Sarah’s knees buckled and she fell to her side like a building being demolished. Her left shoulder took the brunt of the impact as her small body slapped onto the cold white laminate tiles of the kitchen. Both of the boys began relaying orders to each other and calling out to her, but the sounds blurred into distant echoes as she slowly lost consciousness and everything turned to white.