Yes. I’m fine, thanks.
We’d like to help you. Will you tell me your name?
A pause.
My name’s Wren.She’d always liked that name.
It’s nice to meet you, Wren.
Wren was crying now.
Her real name was not the only thing she’d forgotten.
Then it came to her like coming up for air:
Her girls! She had daughters!
Wren threw the door open.
What is it?Amy asked.
I have—
Ihad—
I…
Amy took her hand.It’s okay, Wren.
It’s okay.
When Finn came to, she realized that she’d been crying. She recognized the reflection in the mirror—the bowed mouth, tight curls, and round, tawny cheeks—but even though she looked like herself again, she didn’tfeellike herself. The echo may have passed, but she could still feel its presence, like a shadow hitching a ride on the soles of her feet.
“My name is Finn,” she said to the face in the mirror, but the name felt like paste on her tongue. She swallowed, and she and her shadow made their way back down the hall.
After all the eggs, muffins, and burnt bacon had been eaten and the plates were stacked in neat rows in the dishwasher, Rowan and Finn announced they were going on a hike.
Juniper leaped out of her chair and ran after them, nearly tripping over her too-long overalls. “Can I come?”
“Not until you do your chores.” Myron watched his youngest’s face sink.
“But Rowan has chores, too!”
“She did hers already. So did Hazel.”
“But it’s Saturday,” she pouted.
“What does it matter if it’s a Saturday? You’re on summer break. Every day is a Saturday to you. Now go brush the goats.”
“Ughhh. Life’s so unfair.” Juniper moved toward the door like she was stomping mud off her boots.
“You’re telling me,” said Myron, deadpan, as the screen door slapped behind her. Zadie and Joel were the only two left in the room. He smiled at them wearily. “So got any plans for the day?”
“Not really,” Zadie said. What she really wanted to do was keep an eye on Finn, but it appeared she’d made a friend, and Zadie didn’t want to intrude. After her overreaction this morning, she needed a few hours to herself to unwind, maybe take the hammock for a spin and crack open a book.
Just then a loud, nasal sound filled the room. Zadie thought for a moment that a goose had found its way inside, but then she turned toward the sound and saw Hazel sitting in front of a flimsy music stand, a long black instrument in her hands. Myron shouted over the noise, “Hazel, could you practice your oboe in your room?”
Hazel pulled the reed out of her mouth, making a slurping sound as she did so. “But the acoustics in here are way better!” she protested.