Twenty-Two
I’m paging through Gringel’s Potion Manual, Eighteenth Edition on Saturday evening when Vi arrives home from work. After my visit to Mom, I gathered every book on potions I could find in Ryn’s house and spread them over the kitchen table. I know the possibility of me coming across something that all the expert healers and potion makers don’t already know about is slim, but I don’t have any homework and there’s no way drawing will distract me now, so this is all I’ve got to focus on.
I hear Vi talking to Ryn before she comes into the kitchen. She bends and hugs my shoulders and says, “Ryn told me. I’m so sorry. But at least there’s nothing wrong with her other than sleep.”
“A year, Vi,” I say as I page through Gringel’s. “A year. Or more! Imagine how much she could miss in tha
