This story is about my cousin. It was a while ago... years and years.

I'm six when it begins.

Lucy hugs her mother’s leg. Her cousin, Aunt Lilith’s child, is holding his mother’s hand. His brown hair is tousled and his eyes are green. They stand in the entry way as Lucy’s mother, Mrs. Hubert, talks to Aunt Lilith about how “it is so good to see you, you must be exhausted, aren’t my flower beds gorgeous, why yes, she is six now,” and all those other grown up things. 

The boy blinks at the high ceilings and old do-not-dare-touch-that art. Lu’s mother said that the boy’s old house was small, while Lu’s English manor is sprawling and surrounded by miles of oak and pine, which is why he came. He and his mother needed somewhere new to stay.

When Mrs. Hubert says “oh do let me show you to your rooms! My dear, my house is your house!” Lucy releases her leg so they can walk away. The boy glances toward her and Lu wiggles her fingers at him. He waves back. She giggles.