“We could be all that’s left of our house.” “Well,” Crispin said lamely, “and Hadrian.” “Hadrian!” Sabine’s voice broke, and for a moment Crispin was afraid she might laugh at him. “Hadrian! What do you think? That your long-lost brother might come back and what? Save us? Avenge us? Hadrian isn’t coming back, Crispin. He doesn’t care about us. You said yourself he ran away the first chance he got.” He tucked his hands under his arms and studied the labyrinth pattern embroidered along the outer edge of his cape. “I didn’t mean he’d come save us, Sabine. I only meant he’s still out there.
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