“I thought you said the fay don’t come out during the day,” I said.
“Parades are different.” Orla stood next to me, arms crossed, shaking her head as Eamon and his soldiers settled into their places above us. Suddenly, she stifled a cry. “Oh, goddess. Dawn, no,” she whispered. “She’s not supposed to be here. She was supposed to be on holiday this weekend.”
I followed her gaze. Dawn and her mum stood in their front garden, flags in hand, ready for the parade. I waved. She smiled and waved back. Her mum spotted me and, scowling, quickly turned Dawn around. Dawn turned back and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
Orla lifted into the air, then settled again, clearly agitated.
Dawn’s mum. Huh. So that was it. That was why Dawn hadn’t visited me in the hospital, or come to see me yesterday. She hadn’t .
