CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEWhat I heard first the next morning was a scream and a crash. Cora, dropping the breakfast tray. It woke me up. I was still half in the cupboard, head on the bundled cloak. I must have pulled it off the hanger, and gone to sleep there; for a moment I couldn’t remember where I was. Cora was kneeling beside me, I felt her hand touch my back. She screamed again when I moved.
What’s wrong? I said. I rolled over, pushed myself up.
Oh, she said. I thought.
She thought what?
Like … she said.
The eggs had broken on the floor, there was orange juice and shattered glass.
I’ll have to bring another one, she said. Such a waste. What was you doing on the floor like that? She was pulling at me, to get me up, respectably onto my feet.
I didn’t want to tell her I’d never been to
