Chapter 21: Sisters

Ilse's POV

At ten on Friday I was kneeling in wet grass in a cemetery in Dundalk.

I was not at the council hall.

I had read the letter four times.

Then I had put it in the pocket of my coat and told Thea I would go with her instead.

The housekeeper's grave had a plain stone and no flowers, because nobody had known whose to bring.

Thea set down a pot of yellow chrysanthemums and used her good hand to straighten it.

"I got these at a gas station," she said. "I thought you'd like that."

"I do."

"She would have hated them."

"Then we'll get her better ones next week."

Thea laughed, wetly, and sat down on the grass in her good coat.

I sat beside her.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry again," she said. "You've heard it. It's worn out."

"Say something else."

She thought about it.

"Lukas snores," Thea said.

I stared at her.

"I'm serious. Every night in that suite, he snored."

"I kept thinking, this is the man I'm trading my sister for."

"Thea."

"I'm sorry. It's the only funny thing I have."

I started to laugh, and then I couldn't stop.

I put my forehead on my knees in a graveyard and laughed until it hurt.

When I looked up she was crying and grinning at once.

"You have my mouth," she said. "Father said so."

"Father says a lot of things now."

"He says them slowly."

"He does."

She wiped her face with her sleeve.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Thea said.

"I'm asking if I can sit at the table, and you don't have to look at me."

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