Jack came with provisions the next day. Maggie was sent to her room, as she always was when Jack and Clance needed to talk. This time, though, she could hear that the conversation was becoming heated. Clance and Jack abruptly left together, slamming the door after them. She heard the car leave and ran to the kitchen with her sheet and blanket. She stopped, ran to the other bedroom, and grabbed that blanket, too. She had managed to perforate a good half of the sheet. Try as she might, though, she was having difficulty ripping the sheet. She grabbed a piece of kindling, lit it in the fireplace, and carefully burned through a few threads at the edge of the sheet. She stood on the sheet and yanked as hard as she could. It tore along the weakened line. Thrilled, she continued until she had yards and yards of strips.
Maggie then brought the two wicker baskets into the kitchen and broke off the sides by snapping them along the edge of the work table. She bound her feet in strips, leaving only enough strips to fasten the basket bottoms to her feet. Wrapping herself in the two blankets, she headed out the door.
Maggie headed towards the road, following the car tracks. It was snowing again, heavily, but there was no wind.
Good. Hopefully, the snow will cover my tracks. And maybe it will close the road, giving me more time.
When she got to the road, she saw that the car had turned right. She turned left. The road was not recently plowed, and there were no cars.
The road must be closed. Safer for me.
She headed north.
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