“Are you cold, Will?” she asked, but he only shook his head, his eyes still staring, unseeing, at the passing countryside. She looked at Jem in desperation. Jem spoke, his voice clear and direct. “Will,” he said. “I thought . . . I thought that your sister was dead.” Will drew his gaze from the window and looked at them both. When he smiled, it was ghastly. “My sister is dead,” he said. And that was all he would say. They rode the rest of the way back to the city of York in silence.
