I smile when I see that the vase is a little grinning skull; maybe that’s why she liked the one on my desk so much. “Does your skull have a name?” I call without turning around. The grinding and scraping and clinking sounds stop. “Catherine Earnshaw,” Juniper says from the other side of the door. A bark of laughter escapes me at this. “Is Heathcliff around here somewhere?” I say. “Just Cathy.” I can hear the smile in Juniper’s voice. “I thought she seemed like a character who would enjoy having her skull turned into a flower vase.”
