Finn gestured towards the woman. ‘Well, there’s the bird-brain.’

Tammy squealed: ‘I wanna feed the chickies!’

The figure in the field turned around and smiled. ‘Well don’t just stand there, come give me a hand.’

Tammy didn’t need to be asked twice — she hopped over the short wooden fence and made her way through the hens towards the center.

‘I’m June. I’d offer you my hand, but…’ June showed Tammy that her palms were full of corn.

‘I’m Tammy.’

‘The new doctor, right?’

Tammy nodded.

‘I’m so glad to meet you! Welcome to Liberty.’ June was a pretty thing, with dark blue eyes and almost jet-black hair. She wore ripped jeans and a camouflage t-shirt, and she had a tough look to her — while there was a softness to her expression, it was obvious that she’d been through some stuff. ‘It’s so exciting to see the place fill up.’ June looked around at the empty, half-derelict buildings. ‘Well, relatively speaking.’

‘How do I feed them?’

‘It’s a complicated process,’ said June, with a wink, ‘but you’re a doctor, so you should be able to manage. First… you grab the food. Then… you shove your hand near the chickens.’ There was a mischievous smile on her face.

Tammy laughed. She clearly wasn’t the only cheeky one around her.

Just then, there was a shriek of excitement from the side of the field, then a strong, female, Scottish accent. ‘Oh my goodness! Poultry party!’

This newcomer was a willowy figure with delicate features and fiery red hair. She hurdled over the fence and came to join the other two in the chicken field.

‘I love these scraggly queens! I’m Isla, by the way. And contrary to what you might be thinking right now, I’m not a total numpty. I just go a bit crazy for chickens.’ She thrust out a hand, and Tammy took hold of it.

‘Come on you two,’ June said. ‘Stop slacking.’

As she grabbed a handful of corn, Tammy glanced back over at Conor and Finn. They were watching with a look of relaxed satisfaction on their faces. But there was something else there, too. Conor leaned over to Finn, and said something quietly in his brother’s ear.

Tammy wondered what he’d said.

Then, she was distracted by the strangely not unpleasant sensation of a chicken beak, pecking corn from her hand.

‘They’re both so cool!’ Tammy gushed. ‘June is like, a certified badass, but also like, just, the sweetest! Do you know she has a flipping treehouse? Atreehouse? And Isla is — well, she’s very Scottish. And she’s so smart and funny. She told me she used to be a professional party planner, and now she’s in charge of seasonal events at Liberty.’ Tammy couldn’t remember the last time her mouth had moved this quickly. ‘I can’t believe that Haze employed someone just to make sure that seasonal events are celebrated properly. It’s awesome!’

Finn and Conor flanked her, both smiling.

‘And, and, and,’ Tammy continued, ‘the chickens are so cute. I’m so… fizzy right now!’

‘I’d forgotten how excitable you are, Tam-Tam.’ Conor said. ‘You little soda pop.’

So had she. She couldn’t remember being this excited since… well, since the last time she’d seen the Healy twins.

‘You’re a regular firecracker. A whirling dervish.’ Finn agreed. Obviously, his analogies were more complex than his brother, but Conor’s were cuter. Everything was rushing back so fiercely it was hard not to get swept away.

It was so strange to be with the two of them again — it felt as though a part of her that had been locked away for over ten years had finally been set free. It felt good, but at the same time, there was anger there, too.

For all these years, she’d tried to forget about the Healys, tried to convince herself that it was good that they were out of her life. And now, as soon as she saw them again, the truth was obvious — life was better with them in it.

‘How about we do something to cool down a little?’ Conor asked.

‘OK,’ Tammy agreed. ‘But you’re not talking literally, right? I don’t want to get cold.’

They were walking up a windy path, away from the main settlement. The country was wild up here, and the air was so clean and fresh it felt like her lungs were getting scrubbed out — in a good way.


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