Matilda woke early as she always did, and for a moment she didn’t remember why her throat hurt or why her aunt lay beside her on the bed. Touched her neck, she flinched at the pain, and the memories came flooding back. Matilda felt strangely hollow inside, like an old tree split by lightning that had cracked down the center but had somehow stayed standing, only it would never grow leaves again.
Slipping out of bed, she crossed the room to the window. She looked out at the brilliant green-blue sea, whitecapped with waves. The windows were frosted with a brilliant wintry glaze, and a breeze whistled against the panes of glass. After a moment, she turned back to the room and walked over to her bedchamber door. When she opened it, she nearly tripped over a body stretched out across the doorwa
