thestormbeforeitboilsover.“theyjustgivehimahair.”

“sheprobablydidn’twanttomakepeoplesad,”draofindshimselfsaying,floundering,sooutofhisdepthit’salmostughable.“onherweddingday,youknow.”

“still.hedeservesbetter.more,”andhekiksout,hard,hardenoughthatoneofthelegsofthehairsnap.draorepairsit,butthatdoesnotstopthesarletribbonthathadbeenedarounditfromfloatingintotheairandoutofreah,takingawaytheonlysignthatitwasapereservedforsomeonespeial.“thanastupid.”anotherkik.“chair.”

draojustwathedhimasthefuryrollsoverhimandthenfadesbakintonothing,leavinggeestandingtherelookinglikealittlekidwhohadjustthrownatantrumanddidn’tgettheresponsehewanted.“youneedtomoveon.”hesays,hardlydaringthewordsareleavinghismouthbutknowingthattheymustbesaidbysomeone,beausemerlinknowsnoneofhisfamilyaregoingtodoit.youneedtobeaspeialkindofheartlesstosaywhatdraoissaying.“it’stheonlywayyou’reevergoingtogetalifeofyourown.”

“whyshouldigettomoveon?”hekiksoutatthehairagain,butlighterthistime,soit’smoreofanudge.“whyshouldideservetohavealifewhenhedoesn’t?”

“beauseyou’retheonewhosestillhere,andthatsuks,butyou’vegotpeoplewholoveyou,whosodesperatelywantyoutobeokayagain.”draoreahesouttohimandgeedoesnotshrughimaway.“isn’tthatenough?thefatthatyoustillhavethem,evenwhenhe’sgone?”

“itwouldbebetterifhewerehere,”geemutters,soquietthattheyanbothpretenddraodidnothere,butthenhestraightensandforesoutaugh,shiftingintheblinkofaneyetothegeewhowasokay.“speakingofpeoplewholovedyou.iwassupposedtotellyouearlier.harryneedsyouinthegarden.”