Page 91 of Salt Between the Wolves
Eira frowned.
“Nine?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s exactly what I said when he turned eight.”
Eira shook her head.
“Nine years ago, we were practically children ourselves.”
“You see my problem.”
A soft laugh escaped her.
“And your daughter?”
Maelin's expression softened immediately.
“She’s six.”
“What’s she like?”
“Stubborn.”
“Clearly takes after someone else.”
“That’s what I keep telling everyone.”
“Without success?”
“Absolutely none.”
They both laughed.
The sound lingered between them as the road curved through a stretch of snow-covered fields, and for the first time since their reunion, the conversation began to feel natural rather than careful.
“Last week she decided all the birds must be cold.”
“That sounds sweet.”
“It would have been sweet if she hadn't tried to feed them inside the house.”
Eira turned toward her.
“Inside the house?”
“Inside the house.”
“How?”
“I still don't know.”
“And how many birds ended up inside?”
“More than I would have preferred.”
