“What the hell, Sydney?”
“Take Tilly,” Beep said, barely moving and never opening his eyes.
Tilly heard her name and scampered through the hatch. She bounded into the deep grass. I followed her. She stayed close to me, sensing my unease and my sudden sadness. I knew in my heart the teepee could never again be a warm and safe place for me, and I vowed Beep and Zach could never know why. I was certain it was only my silence that would protect them.
Tilly and I crossed the lawn near the garden and I cast a look overhead. There were stars, a whole cluster of stars. I prayed that among them there was a patron saint for me, and in my grief I cried.
In the morning, Zach and I talked our way down Trumpet Hill. The panic that overwhelmed me the evening before had departed, at least for a time.
