Chapter 56
HARPER
There’s a roaring in my head, and a percussive explosion. Has something … burst? In my brain?
I’m being carried. Slowly. Tightly. My eyelids are too heavy to raise, so how is someone lifting me?
I can smell Mom’s scent.
She asked me to describe it once. I told her it was every flower in the garden, plus magic. Mom laughed, and cuffed me playfully round the head, and said, So now describe the scent of magic!
Is Mom here? Someone’s setting me down. But awkwardly. Trying to fold me, shoving at me, tucking me into a too-small space. My shoulders are being raised, as if medicine is going to be spooned into my mouth, or a pillow shoved under my head.
Thighs slide under my head. I’m resting in someone’s lap? A hand brushes hair from my face. Fingers stroke my cheek. That scent again.
Mom.
Harper? She’s saying. Harper – stay with me?
But I’m not … really here …
I’m there.