I was pleased to see that Mother was managing a little soup, a scrap or two of bannock. She had grown so thin, the north wind might snatch her away if it took a mind to; and it had never been easy to persuade her to eat. As I watched her, I felt Iubdan’s eyes on me, and I glanced at him and quickly away again, for I could not bear his expression. That look said, this is a long good-bye, yet not time enough. I have no aptitude for this. I cannot learn this. I would hold on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.
