Maeve woke to golden fingers of sunshine streaming in around the edges of the paper blind - and the date hit her like a blow to the chest. Monday June 6th. She lay, every sinew in her body urging her to rise from the bed - to no avail. The brilliant sunshine made her angry. How could it be shining like that on this dreadful day? She pushed her head under the pillow. It should be dark winter, with winds howling like the banshees in her mind.
When she heard Finola’s voice in the other room she forced herself out of the bed and stood up. It was as if someone had stolen her legs and replaced them with wet cardboard and she fell into the chair by the fireside.
Finola should be getting ready for school, like any other day. The court was not a suitable place for her. She had thought it a suitab
