NICK
THE MACULINEA ARION is the largest and rarest of the blue English butterflies. Little, blue-eyed Laine reminds me of one — fragile and delicate and inviting predators, with no idea of its own beauty.
I collect butterflies.
Not in a put the lotion in the basket style, just because I find them both fascinating and beautiful.
Unfortunately they’re usually dead by the time I’m able to admire them now. Long gone are long summer days in the meadow, armed with a butterfly net and a spotter guide to British wildlife.
Laine’s breath is a wisp, her eyes sparkling for a moment as she makes her birthday wish.
I want to ask what a girl like Laine wishes for, but I don’t.
“You have a beautiful house,” she says, and the colour is back in her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
She asks me if I want to sha
