Branwen looked up from the book she was reading, confused by the sound of her mother’s voice, talking to her dad in the hall outside her bedroom.
This wasn’t her mad voice, or her happy voice, or her disappointed voice when Branwen was really going to get it. This wasn’t even her normal sad voice.
It was more like a crying voice. When she stepped through the door she was crying, and her eyes were red and puffy. Branwen put down her book and ran over to her mother.
“Mother? What’s wrong?”
Branwen hugged her, and for once her mother didn’t briskly move away. She clung to her daughter, only ten years old but already aware of the way other people felt.
Then her dad came around the corner, and he had an upset look on his face too.
“Elaine, are you sure she’s ready for this?”
Her dad put
