Rosamund
I stood at the edge of the lake and stared at nothing.
The water was flat and grey beneath the overcast sky, barely moving, and the trees along the far bank hung heavy and still in the windless air. Everything was quiet. The estate had been quiet for days now, as though the house itself had absorbed the silence between its master and its mistress and decided there was nothing left worth saying.
It had been a full week since the quarrel, and I had not seen Nevan once.
I bent down, picked up a flat stone from the bank, and threw it into the lake. It skipped once, badly, and sank. I watched the ripples spread outward and dissolve into nothing.
