Francesca

MY SCALP AND MY FINGERTIPS tingle with something like excitement. Silly, gullible little Sparrow. Of course I'm not going to meet her in the woods! For one thing, to do so would be to journey back into the past and I am all about existing in the present. For another, I'm not completely insane! As though I would meet on her terms. I want to really prepare for our first proper meeting. I rather feel I owe it to her. She's made an effort, so I should, too. And it's been so long. I should make sure this reunion is everything it could be.

I dress carefully, quietly. I rub aromatherapy oil into my pulse points.

And then, just for good measure you understand, I slip a Japanese ceramic knife—in its silicone cover—out of the kitchen drawer.

I always did love sneaking out at midnight as a youth. There's something so alive about this hour: magical and elemental. As though anything could happen.