Wheeling Gull Isle I am the owner of nowhere land, queen of a castle that’s made of sand.

When the children reapproach Gramma @Towhee, Dinah is wrought with a ferocious guilt. Her bouquet is neatly gathered and placed adjacent to Ava's — a smörgåsbord of absolute chaos, not unlike the three other siblings the Uncle dragged in — but still, Dinah compliments her with an It's really pretty, Ava, giving her pointed shoulder a tender, hesitant touch with a paw. Mama and Daddy are gonna love it.
She noses the collection of doubles to her with a snuffle and a soft whine. These are for you to keep, she whispers, a hopeful wideness to cornflower blue eyes. I tried ta' find an extra big blue one. I'm sorry, Ava. she drags a paw through the pale sand in circle motions, nails raking a pattern of four. you don't have ta' forgive me. But God wouldn't want us to be mad at each other. she didn't even know if Ava would find that reassuring in the way she did — but it was God! God was their light, God was their love, God was Sweetharbor's entire being; how could she not, if she was one of them now?
Patiently, now, she tucks her knees up to her chest and eagerly awaits Gramma's judgment.