The ice maiden’s lament Manisha Yadav The ice Maiden’s laMenT Manisha Yadav Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C The ice maiden’s lament The ice maiden’s lament Manisha Yadav Manisha Yadav An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C The ice maiden’s lament T he air was sharp that day. The kind of cold that pressed into the lungs with the weight of an old secret, turning breath into fog. It wasn’t the kind of cold that came with snow or the promise of warmth afterward. No, this was something else, a piercing, unsparing cold, the sort that buried itself deep in your bones and stayed there, always, no mat- ter how long you tried to escape it. Cassie stood at the edge of the lake, her hands shoved deep in her pockets, her shoulders hunched against the chill, staring at the vast white sheet that stretched endlessly before her. The ice on the lake was as still and unmoving as death itself. It had been a month since Kayla had slipped beneath its surface, but Cassie still felt her sister’s presence, hovering over her like a phantom she couldn’t shake. Manisha Yadav Kayla had been laughing when it happened. Just a quick, startled cry, a slip of the foot, and then nothing. The ice had swallowed her whole, without so much as a tremor. Not a crack, not a break, not a single sound. How could the ice hold so firm? How could it stay intact when her sister had gone down like that? Cassie’s breath caught in her throat, a fragile gasp. Why hadn’t Kayla screamed? It wasn’t that Cassie wanted to relive it, not ex- actly. But the silence, the haunting silence that had followed Kayla’s fall had become unbearable. Why hadn’t Kayla screamed as the freezing water closed over her, as her lungs burned, as her body was pulled down into the icy depths? The weight of the questions pressed down on her like the very ice itself. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. Cassie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, the cold like shards of glass against her skin. She could still hear the crack of the ice as Kayla fell, could still hear her sister’s voice, sweet and light, just moments before the world collapsed into that terri- ble, relentless silence. Kayla had laughed. It had been a sound that belonged to summer, to warmth, to the The ice maiden’s lament feeling of sun on skin, but in the instant before it all disappeared, before the ice swallowed her whole, it was something else entirely that Cassie couldn’t name. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The neighbour had said something strange. Mrs. Godfrey. The woman had been there, had seen it all or so she claimed. “I saw you,” Mrs. Godfrey had said, standing too close, her voice low and sharp, like a blade pressed against Cassie’s ear. “I saw you push her.” Cassie could feel the heat of Mrs. Godfrey’s breath on her face as the words rattled in her head. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t cried out. The accusation didn’t sit right. Cassie could still see the way the woman’s eyes had narrowed, the way her lips had trembled, as though she were holding onto some truth that Cassie couldn’t grasp. “I saw you push her.” Cassie’s stomach had twisted in knots, and for a long moment, she hadn’t been able to move, hadn’t been able to say a single word. How could she ex- plain it? How could she make the woman see that she hadn’t pushed her sister, that there was no malice in her heart, no anger, no cruelty? Manisha Yadav “She just slipped,” Cassie had said, her voice hoarse. “She ...she just fell.” But Mrs. Godfrey hadn’t listened. Instead, her eyes had glinted with something Cassie couldn’t identify, something old and unforgiving. “I’m telling you what I saw,” she had said, voice trembling with the weight of her accusation. “I saw you push her.” The words had stayed with Cassie long after Mrs. Godfrey had gone inside, slamming the door behind her, leaving Cassie standing alone in the cold, feel- ing the weight of that accusation settle over her like a heavy blanket. She hadn’t pushed her sister. But now, every time she closed her eyes, she heard Mrs. God- frey’s voice echoing in her head. “I saw you push her.” It had been a month. A month, and yet the lake had not let go of her. Kayla had gone down beneath the ice like it had swallowed her whole, and Cassie was left standing here, frozen in time. She had never seen her sister struggle. She had never seen her fight. Just the sharp, cold crack of ice and then nothing. Cassie turned her face toward the sky, the gray The ice maiden’s lament clouds hanging low, threatening rain. It would come soon, the storm. It always did. She tried to shake the thought away, but it clung to her, like the cold. What if it was true? What if, in some strange, unconscious way, she had pushed her? The thought was enough to make her stomach turn over. What if she had? What if there had been something in her, some dark impulse she hadn’t been aware of, something that drove her to do it? The idea lodged itself in her chest like a splinter, and she couldn’t es- cape it. Her hands trembled as she pulled them from her pockets, lifting them to her face, wiping away the dampness of unshed tears. She wasn’t sure anymore what she was looking for. A sign? A reason? Some sort of proof that she was innocent? The ice stretched before her, stretching forever, a sheet of frozen white silence. There was nothing here. Just her, alone, and the memory of her sister’s laugh, and the weight of Mrs. Godfrey’s words. And the nagging feeling, the one she couldn’t shake, that the lake had stolen something from her, something more than her sister. Manisha Yadav * * * * * The halls of the school were like a maze, a blur of indifferent faces that turned into fragments as Cas- sie moved through them. Her sneakers scuffed the linoleum, each step heavier than the last. She bare- ly registered the noise around her, the chatter, the laughter, the shrill sound of lockers opening and closing—everything felt distant, muffled, as if the air had thickened into something suffocating, trapping her inside it. Everywhere she went, there were eyes. Eyes that followed her from behind, eyes that peered at her from around corners, eyes that turned away quickly when she looked back. Whispers floated in the air like sharp-edged whispers, sharp enough to cut through the layers of skin she had built around herself. “She’s the one who...” “No, she didn’t! She couldn’t have!” “Did you hear? Her sister...” The words hung in the air like a stench that no one could escape. It didn’t matter that they were all wrong. Cassie had done nothing, nothing to deserve this. Yet, Mrs. Godfrey’s words echoed relentlessly, The ice maiden’s lament carving into her chest with an unbearable intensity. I saw you push her. Cassie’s throat tightened. She wished she could tear it all out of her head. The words, the accusing, con- demning tone, the way Mrs. Godfrey had looked at her, looked at her like she had already made up her mind Cassie couldn’t breathe. Her lungs seemed to col- lapse, squeezing her heart into a tight, suffocating knot. “ I saw you push her. ” She’d tried to explain. She’d tried to tell the wom- an she had nothing to do with it, but the words had sounded so weak, like they didn’t belong to her. She’d barely heard her own voice. How could anyone be- lieve her? She stumbled into the library, and the door swung shut behind her with a soft thud. For a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear, swallowed whole by the quiet of the room. The smell of dust and old books settled over her like a comfort, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. She didn’t want to think about it, but her mind Manisha Yadav wouldn’t stop. Her thoughts twisted into endless loops, circling back to the same damned question: Why had she gone out there? To the lake? Why had she stood there, staring at it, watching her sister slip beneath the surface without a sound? Kayla didn’t scream , Kayla didn’t fight it Cassie shuddered. She could still feel the cold creeping into her bones, the icy grip of the lake pull- ing at her as if it had never let go. Kayla was gone. Kayla was lost to that frozen world beneath the ice. And now, Cassie was left with this emptiness. A knock at the door broke through her thoughts. Soft but persistent. She didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to face anyone, especially not Mrs. Godfrey or any of the other people who thought they knew everything about what happened. “Cassie?” came a soft voice. She turned slowly, her hands trembling as she wiped away the unshed tears that threatened to fall. It was Mrs. Holloway, the librarian. Her eyes were soft, filled with sympathy, but there was no warmth in them, no comfort. Cassie hated the sympathy. It felt like an accusation all on its own. The ice maiden’s lament “Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Holloway’s voice was gentle, but her words hung in the air like a burden Cassie couldn’t shake off. “I think... I think it’s time for you to go home.” Cassie didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her lips were paralyzed, locked in place by the strange weight in her chest, the dull ache that had lodged itself in her throat. She couldn’t even say goodbye, not to Mrs. Holloway, not to the place she used to hide from everything that was wrong in the world. She just nodded slowly, her head too heavy for her neck to hold. With slow, deliberate steps, she gathered her things, feeling the weight of her bag settle against her shoul- der. Her hands were clammy, her fingers numb as she fumbled with the zipper. She didn’t look at Mrs. Hol- loway again, didn’t acknowledge the pitiful stare that followed her as she made her way out of the library. The hallways seemed even longer now, more op- pressive. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the silence, the sound of them too sharp, too real. The eyes still followed her, but now there was something else in them, a kind of trepidation, a fear that hadn’t been there before. Was it pity? Or was it suspicion? Manisha Yadav She could feel the questions pressing against her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Did they be- lieve it? Did they believe she had pushed her sister? The thought burned through her mind, hotter than the shame she couldn’t seem to rid herself of. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she pushed open the door to the outside. The cold slapped her face like a hand. Her skin prickled under the sudden onslaught, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her body, as though trying to shield herself from more than just the cold. She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to face her mother, her father. Didn’t want to see their hol- low, empty eyes, the way they had shut themselves off from the world, retreating further into the darkness of their grief. Her own grief felt like a stone in her chest. But it wasn’t just grief. It was something dark- er, something twisted, something that had taken root deep inside her and wouldn’t let go. Home was supposed to be safe. Home was sup- posed to be where everything made sense, where things could be fixed. But now, it was just another place where the silence pressed too close, where the weight of the world rested too heavily on her shoul- ders. The ice maiden’s lament The house loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. She didn’t want to go inside. Didn’t want to face them, didn’t want to face the questions. She’d already heard the whispers. But it didn’t matter. There was no es- cape. Inside, it was worse than she had imagined. The air in the house was thick, stagnant, carrying the scent of something long dead, something unspoken. Her mother sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the countertop, her hands limp at her sides. The lack of emotion in her face made Cassie’s chest tighten. Her father was slumped in the living room, staring at the TV but not watching, the flicker of the screen casting strange, unnatural shadows across his face. The walls seemed to press in on her, closing her off from the world. “Cassie,” her mother’s voice broke the silence, thin and brittle, like a branch snapping under the weight of snow. “You should talk to someone.” Cassie didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The words felt foreign, empty. The idea of talking, of explaining, of confessing... it felt impossible. The weight of her sis- ter’s absence sat heavily in her chest, the grief and the guilt clawing at her from within. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, it was the doubt. The uncertainty Manisha Yadav that ate away at her, piece by piece, until she was left hollow inside. Her mother’s eyes never left her face. There was no accusation there, just that hollow stare, the eyes of a woman who had lost everything. Cassie turned away, unable to meet them. She didn’t want to talk. There was nothing to say. Nothing except the truth that no one could hear, not even her own parents. The truth she wasn’t sure she believed in herself. * * * * * Cassie hadn’t seen Mrs. Godfrey since the day the words had been spoken, the day they had broken into the air between them like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples that would never settle. “I saw you push her,” Mrs. Godfrey had said, her voice thick with something Cassie couldn’t place. Accusation, certainly. But it was more than that. A verdict had already been passed, a sentence waiting to be carried out. But that day was weeks ago, and still, Cassie could feel Mrs. Godfrey’s eyes on her, even when they wer- en’t in the same room. She could feel them heavy The ice maiden’s lament on her back when she stood in the lunch line, the weight of those rumours pressing down on her like the blanket of snow that had covered the lake, bury- ing everything beneath its cold. The whispers had spread fast, like fire licking at dry grass, spreading until it was everywhere. They were everywhere. They followed her home, seeped into the cracks of her thoughts, crept into the corners of her room at night when she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. They all thought she did it. They all thought she was the one who pushed her sister, who watched her sister slip beneath the ice and didn’t do a thing to stop it. Cassie knew the look now, the one they gave her when she walked into a room, when she came near a group of girls in the hallway. It was a glance that shifted ever so slightly, the way someone looks at a shadow, not quite sure if it’s there or if it’s just the light playing tricks. But it was always there, lingering in their eyes, in the spaces between words. She was walking to her locker when she heard it, that voice, too sweet to be genuine, too smooth to be anything but veiled hostility. “What really happened, Cassie?” Manisha Yadav Cassie’s heart skipped. She knew who it was before she even turned her head. Laura Parker, the one girl who had always smiled too brightly, who laughed too easily, who pretended too much. But now there was a sharpness to her smile, an edge to her words that made Cassie’s stomach twist. The tension in the hall- way seemed to thicken, the murmurs of her class- mates falling away as though they were holding their breath, waiting. “Were you the one who...” Laura’s voice trailed off, but the question hung between them, weighted with all the things left unsaid. Cassie felt the heat rise in her cheeks, the old panic threatening to break free. She swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in her throat. She had said it a hundred times already in her head, in her room, to the dark- ness of the night. She had said it to the walls, to the stillness. But now, in front of them, it felt different. “I didn’t push her,” Cassie said, the words coming out raw, choked by the weight of them. She forced herself to meet Laura’s eyes, feeling the sting of judg- ment in them, the disbelief that cut deeper than any accusation. She didn’t let herself look away. She couldn’t. The ice maiden’s lament The hallway was so quiet now, the air thick with the expectation of something more. The silence stretched out between them, suffocating in its thickness. Laura’s expression flickered for a moment, an al- most imperceptible change, a tightening of her lips, a narrowing of her eyes. It was enough to tell Cassie that Laura didn’t believe her. But it wasn’t just Laura. It wasn’t just one person. It was everyone. They all thought she was guilty. She could feel it in the way their eyes followed her, in the way their laughter quieted when she walked by. It was like she wore it, this mark, this stain. There was no escaping it, no matter how much she wanted to. “Well, I just wanted to hear it from you,” Laura said, her voice dripping with something Cassie couldn’t name. “I mean... everyone’s saying things, but...” Her voice trailed off, and she didn’t finish the sentence, but Cassie could hear the words in her head anyway. It was you, wasn’t it? The silence that followed felt unbearable. The weight of Laura’s gaze made Cassie want to shrink into herself, to disappear into the floor. But she couldn’t. She had to stand there, had to face it. Be- Manisha Yadav cause if she didn’t, they would all have won. They would have crushed her under their suspicions, their accusations. Cassie opened her mouth to say something—an- ything—but before she could get the words out, the bell rang, its shrill shriek cutting through the tension like a knife. The students around her broke apart, scattering to their classes, leaving her alone in the hall. Alone with the look in Laura’s eyes, the look that would follow her for the rest of the day, for the rest of her life, until there was nothing left of her but the thing they all thought her to be. Cassie didn’t move at first. She stood there for a moment, the sound of the bell still ringing in her ears, the hollow feeling of being untethered, adrift. Then, slowly, she turned and walked to her class. But as she passed the row of lockers, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. A figure standing there, watching. It was Mrs. Godfrey. She was leaning against the wall by the door to the teacher’s lounge, her eyes fixed on Cassie with a kind of strange, unsettling intensity.