"It"s Lorna." Christine stood at my side, shaking, with her hands at her face. "Do something, Brenda."
I sat up. "Lorna, I"m coming!
The fire was dead without even a single red ember. The room was in darkness, with a high wind clattering at the windows and roaring down the lum. I scratched a match and lit a candle. Wavering yellow light pooled over the room, highlighting Christine"s cheekbones, making deep pits of her eyes.
"Lorna!"
Still stupid with sleep, I pulled myself to my feet. Lorna was asleep, twisting and turning in her nest, so the rug was a tangle around her legs. Sweat gleamed on her face, dampened her snarled hair and plastered her surprisingly fashionable chiffon slip to her body. Crouching at her side, I shook her shoulder. "Lorna, wake up. It"s all right."
Lorna slept
