In another moment, it began to clear, and I realized my fingernails were biting into my palm. The pointed leaves of the maple trees along Main Street shook on their branches, every one of them painted the color of blood. Nearly six weeks late, and with no warning at all, every tree on Saoirse had turned in a single night. I knew better than to dismiss such things. We all did. It was the time of year when the veil between worlds was thin, and in that moment, I could feel the tingle of the Otherworld tiptoeing lightly up my spine.
