Book 3: Enough

Candace

I’m sitting at the dressing table, fixing my hair for the first time in days, when a bird starts singing right outside my tent. An ash warbler. For the third time since sunset yesterday. I almost smile.

When it first happened, I made Ingrid go check. We were way outside of where the warbler should be, and if it was lost, I’d consider leaving my tent to make sure it got home. The last thing I expected was for her to report some kind of insane contraption making the noise. If it weren’t for the flute attached at the bottom, I’d have no idea what was happening. But now, every time the singing starts again, I know Eva is out there, trying to reach me however she can.

Another couple of visits from Altair haven’t hurt, either. Raven has stopped trying to talk about Mother, which I appreciate. I’d much rather talk about the newest Solberg, all the tiny changes he goes through every day. Today, he opened his eyes for longer than yesterday. Tomorrow