Page 17 (1/2)

I turn frolass As we speed off, I try to let go of so too

The row house ceded to o, albeit very wet Rain lashes the s, drowning flowers in theirboxes Trarow as arden, and spend his life watching it blooets out of the transport before it fully stops, her boots splashing through a puddle I hesitate, for many reasons

Of course I have to talk to ree to stay there, even when I leave again We should be used to it by now, but walking away never gets easier They can’t stopit, but I can’t stop theht Knowing they’re safe is the only sanctuary I have left

But that inevitable argument is a dream compared to what else I have to ad it makes it real

The puddle outside the transport is deeper than I thought, splashing up the sides of s I welcome the distraction, and follow Farley up the steps to an opening door

A blur of Barrows pulls me inside Mom, Gisa, Tramy, and Bree whirl aroundin to give me a short but firht of hilad he agreed to stay behind

Dad hangs back again, waiting to hug ht have to wait a long tio She drapes an arand soap Nothing like home in the Stilts My status in the army, whatever it is, affords my family a level of luxury ere never accustomed to before The row house itself, a former officer’s quarters, is opulent coh it is sparsely decorated, the essentials are all finely made and well cared for

Farley only has eyes for Clara While I’ainst her chest, letting the baby girl rest her head on her shoulder Yawning, Clara nuzzles, trying to return to her interrupted nap When she thinks no one is looking, Farley dips her neck, pressing her nose against Clara’s tiny head of brown hair She shuts her eyes and inhales

Meanwhile, Mo "Hoain," she one" I untangleWe’re still unaccusto this ithoutmonths of recuperation with the aid of Sara Skonos, as well as the healers and nurses of the Montfort ar can erase the years we all re in his brain And I suppose it should Forgetting doesn’t feel right

He leans on me, not as heavily as he used to, and I lead hi room We share a bitter smile, a private one that passes only between us My father was a soldier once too, longer than any of us He understands what it is to see death and return froine who he was, beneath the wrinkles and the scraggly whiskers fading into gray, behind his eyes We had few photographs at hoe on Tuck Island, then to the other base in the Lakelands, and then here One of them sticks out in es, fuzzy and faded in the io, before even Bree was born They were teenagers, kids of the Stilts like I was Dad hteen He wasn’t conscripted yet, and Mom was just an apprentice Dad used to look so rin, his ht eyebrows across a high forehead Ears that could be a little too big I try not to think oflike my father has, subjected to the same pains and worries I can make sure they don’t share our father’s fate--or Shade’s

Bree flops into an ar I wrinkle my nose Men do not have lovely feet