Agnes pats the back of Eliza’s hand and speaks in a rush: “She has her other sisters with her, remember. The two who died before you were born. They all look after each other. She doesn’t want you to worry. She wants you…” Agnes pauses, looks at Eliza, who is shivering with the cold or the shock or both. “I mean,” she says, in a new, careful voice, “I expect that she wouldn’t want you to worry. She would want you to rest easy.”
