This was the unraveling Hazel had felt in her gut when Mum held the note of evacuation in the backyard in Bloomsbury. It hadn’t been the war that threatened her life; it was Flora’s disappearance. Somehow she had known that something terrible would happen, and that it would be her fault. A thread had been pulled; it was her undoing. The only thing to do was to find Flora. And Hazel would. No matter how long it took, or what she lost along the way.
