Chapter Twelve“You didn’t—?” Dinah’s voice was horrified.
“Me? No!” Mudge sounded too distraught to say more. “No!”
Lydia didn’t see their expressions. She couldn’t look at anything except the still shape splayed under the tree. Time and her brain both froze. Only her heart pounded in her ears like a kettledrum, and her feet started toward the pond.
A hand caught her arm. “Don’t.” A hoarse whisper.
Her eyes met Mudge’s. “I have to! Help him, or find out—”
“I already did.”
“Oh, Mudge. Oh my god.” Lydia’s arm went around him.
“Is he—?” came Dinah’s voice behind them, smaller than Lydia had ever heard it. “Mudge! Is he dead?”
He reached out an arm for her, too. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
The three of them huddled together on the path. “I had to turn him over,” Mudge explained. “His face was
