“I still have your letter. Oh, Calum.” He took the next step, and the next, and we hugged each other, and I felt it in my heart.
“Oh, come in, come in.”
“We have a day, maybe two, I think, before they wake up. Less, if there are villagers who will—”
“No one will. They hate them.”
“You must go, you and Katrina, your children. They will be back.”
“Where will we go?” Conor and I turned to see Katrina standing at the other end of the foyer. Two children trailed behind her, both with Conor’s golden hair. The older boy, six, I guessed. The younger, four or five.
“Calum, this is your Uncle Calum. Gunnar, your uncle. Please, come in, there’s food out in the breakfast nook.”
I shook their hands. Both were shy and a little scared. I hugged Katrina, and I followed her, and the boys, with Conor
