I began to see the wisdom of Damienne’s busy hands. Working, I had little time to mourn—but in my dreams, I grieved. I dreamed Auguste was captured by birds, who feasted on his flesh. I tried to beat them off, but with their claws, they carried him away into the sky. Then I dreamed he was a bird. He spread his wings and I became a bird to follow him. We flew over the waves to search for our lost child. When I woke, I sat up, blinking. My heart ached, but I dressed in my worn clothes and stumbled out to fetch our water. Then I went to hunt the birds that preyed upon my lover. I went to kill the
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