At that moment she spotted someone wandering among the roses. It was a girl about Wren’s age. Her dark hair was arranged in loose curls that tumbled all the way to her waist, and she was wearing a fine pink dress with a full skirt. Her dainty chin was tipped to the sky, as though she was lost in thought. Wren stood up without meaning to. Shen tugged on the end of her cloak. ‘Get down.’ She pointed towards the distant trellises. ‘Do you see that girl?’ Shen squinted. ‘What about her?’ ‘That’s her. That’s my sister.’ Wren felt a strange pull in her heart, like a thread going taut. For a
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