Sleigh bells faded in the freezing air and the girl was gone, away over the vast white prairie Lib herself could never cross again. Lib wished she would never come back, wished she would never have to hang the curtains in the corner, to lose her little sofa, the one lovely thing she had from her old home. But of course she would come back, unless she froze on the way, and Lib wasn't angry enough to wish her dead. It wasn't Laura Ingalls brought her here, to trap her in this dark house. She couldn't hate Laura for leaving.