Sleepy Fox Hollow shadows that lift off the bloom and the velvet

Wylla listened silently to Phaedra grappling with her truth until the girl settled on it — avoiding Mahler — and then the lines of her mother's body softened. I get why you would feel that way. Don't be upset at yourself, she advised, craning her head to try to peer into Phaedra's lowered face. She understood completely. Sure, it was a little selfish, but Mahler had been a little selfish when he had new daughters with another woman and made himself rather unavailable to theirs, intentionally or otherwise. She would argue that it was karma.

I don't know, said Wylla, and it was at least half true. It felt terrible to lie to Phaedra, but the truth was so ugly, and Phaedra still so young and beautiful. Life had scarred her in its own way, but Wylla wanted no part in adding more to her soul. How could she possibly explain what happened that day without creating a villain of herself in Phaedra's eyes? Selfish as she was, she could not bear to see hate in the eyes of another daughter.

Hey, she said when Phaedra rose and suddenly darted by, twisting but ultimately unable to follow for weakness and injury alike. Thank god the girl kept her thoughts to herself — that was a blow Wylla could not stomach, for she had not looked for Thade (he did not want to be with them!) and she had not looked for Stag (like Mahler would welcome him around now!) and to admit to either fact would shatter her entirely.

So she watched Phaedra go, none the wiser, with a sinking feeling in her stomach.