Easter Bunny's Arc

Chapter 13 of 15

Easter Bunny returned to the altar before dawn. He hadn't slept. The fence still stood at the clearing's edge with eight names carved into the warning sign, and Easter Flowerette's absence felt heavier than her presence ever had. He'd been weaving a basket from willow branches all night, filling it with painted eggs wrapped in grass. Not a tribute for Easter Corner—just a gift. Something to say what he couldn't when she'd asked her question. He was tucking in the last egg when footsteps crossed the threshold. Easter Flowerette stopped at the altar's base, her petals catching the first light. Her gaze fell on the half-finished basket. "What's this?" she asked. Easter Bunny set down the willow branch. "A gift," he said. "For Easter morning. I started it yesterday, before you came." Easter Flowerette moved closer, studying the painted eggs nestled in grass. "Does this change anything?" she asked. Her voice was sharp, not curious. "Does a basket outside the fence make me worthy now?" Easter Bunny felt the question land like a stone. "No," he said. "It doesn't change the boundary. But it changes what I owe you." Easter Flowerette was quiet for a long moment. Then she pressed a glass marker into the ground where she stood—flowers preserved inside, bright against the brass base. "I'm marking this spot," she said. "So you remember where I asked. And where you answered." She turned and walked past the fence without waiting for a response. Easter Bunny stood alone with the unfinished basket, staring at the marker she'd left behind. He'd built Easter Corner to honor goodness, but the fence had created two sides. And now he knew which one he stood on.