“Anything I did was only for your own good, Martha,” he said, and his voice was the frozen cold of winter.
That cold would have chilled her marrow even the day before, would have made her bend and submit. But now she saw that she was proof against it, that he only had power because she’d believed it.
“My name isn’t Martha,” she said.
His brows drew together and his left eye, the one that wasn’t damaged, was a roiling storm of fury, but his voice was still frosted over, calm and cold.
“Your name is Martha and you are my wife,” he said, like his saying it would make it true, would make her believe it again.
“My name isn’t Martha,” she said. “I don’t belong to you.”
She’d backed away from him, moving across the trail toward the cliffs. Now she realized how close she was to the edge, that if she took one step backward her foot would only find empty air.
I could fly away, she thought. I could fly into the sky and William would never be able to capture me again. I’d be free, free as a hawk, and I’d never again be a scurrying mouse for him to snap in his trap.
（Don’t be a little coward）
Samantha again, Samantha always harrying her, always pushing her to be stronger, to try harder, to fight.
I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired. I tried to fight him, to get away, and look where I am now.
（Yes look where you are now）
I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want to be free.
（Look where you are now）
It’s so hard.
（look）
“Come away from there now, Martha,” William said, and for the first time Mattie heard alarm in his voice. “You’re too close to the edge.”
He was closer to her now, less than three feet away. If he grabbed her, if he got hold of her with those powerful hands, then she would be lost. There would be nothing left of Samantha. She’d be crushed beneath William’s fists.
（Don’t let him grab you）
I know, she wanted to shout. I know now what I’m supposed to do. I don’t need a bossy little girl like you to tell me.
（Then do it）
William was closer. She was just about in his arm’s reach. His right eye was horrible, oozing black blood. She remembered her own swollen eye, the one he’d given her, and how she hadn’t been able to see anything on that side of her face, not even the edge of her nose.
William swung one of his big paws—for that’s what they were, they were paws, huge and dangerous, just like the creature’s—but Mattie was already moving, darting to his right side where he couldn’t see her.
Even a mouse has power, she thought. They can scurry so fast that you almost don’t see them, nothing but a flash out of the corner of your eye. And William can see nothing, nothing at all.
Mattie darted to the right and then forward, and then turned again before William realized what happened. She put both hands on his back and pushed as hard as she could.
William stumbled, dropped the rifle to the ground, cried out, “You damned little bitch!” but he didn’t fall.
She almost panicked then, almost ran before he turned and grabbed her, but William had taught her—over and over—that if she started a job then she should do it right, that to give half-effort was a sin.
William started to turn toward her, his left eye blazing, no ice remaining to freeze her heart.
She ran at him, her arms out, and he hadn’t gotten his balance yet, and this time he did fall, his hands grasping for purchase, opening and closing on nothing but empty air.
He fell forward, his upper body pouring over the edge of the cliff, his legs still on the ground in front of her, and for a moment he was balanced there like a seesaw—half of him suspended in air, and the other half clinging to cliff.
“MARTHA!” he roared.
“I’m not Martha. I’m Samantha,” she said, and she kicked him forward.
It was only an inch or two, just enough force to upset the balance, and then it was like the air reached out and pulled him away, and he was screaming, screaming, screaming.
Mattie stood there, swaying, her whole body trembling. Then she fell to her knees, to her stomach, and crawled forward on her belly to peer over the edge.
It was a long way to the bottom, a very long way, and even William couldn’t survive that. But if he did then his body was broken, and he couldn’t move, and nobody would be there to help him and he would die there, lonely and afraid.
Mattie’s heart swelled with a fierce gladness, a happiness she had never known.