Why had the boy left his key? Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Or maybe he was just doing what she had suggested and left the key because he thought he might lose it?

  Eliza got that he didn’t want to talk about his situation, but why not use the shed? She’d imagined asking the boy to stow an old cot in there next, maybe even a few books.

  Would he show up with another bruise… or worse? Was she na?ve to hope that it wouldn’t happen again?

  And why couldn’t she bring herself to trust him?

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  Trying to sleep was useless. The ceiling just stared down at her. So instead, she crept out and gazed down the road that led to the docks. He was out there somewhere, and she was a coward. For all her bluster, all her power, what good was it?

  She turned and walked around the outside of her estate, on her usual path. She could still check for the blanket after all; he would have left that if he was returning. She froze—

  From the boy’s spot, a little yellow flame flickered through the darkness. It went away. It came back. It went away. It came back.

  She stood there for hours, mesmerized, watching that little light flicker on and off, until finally with the sunrise, she hurried home.

  The Book is Out!

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