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Prologue

Through the eyes of a child, the world is simple. There is no suspicion of motives or fear of trust and love. A child, naive and untainted by the darkness of the universe, has a simple idea of truth. They see the world in absolutes, black and white, good and evil. Only through time do they learn to see the infinite scale of grey in life.

Lilly took her tea exceptionally sweet. Three sugar cubes, no milk, and served in the finest china she could find. Mr. Bear, however, liked no tea at all. Instead, he nursed a cup filled with golden honey. Mrs. Cottontail nibbled on a plate of carrot sandwiches. Lilly would have nothing but the best for her dearest and most steadfast friends. They were the only friends that stayed with her wherever her mother took them. London, Brussels, Paris, or New York.

Lilly wore her favorite periwinkle tea dress, her springy dark curls tied up with a pink satin ribbon. Her little fingers sported no gloves, as Mrs. Cottontail misplaced hers, and Lilly offered her own.

"Mr. Bear, would you like more honey?" Lilly asked, looking across the floral-clothed table at her guest. A steaming pot of peppermint tea, a pitcher of milk, a honey pot, and a bowl piled high with sugar cubes stood at the table's center. Mr. Bear did not respond, at least with his voice. Lilly looked into his yellow button eyes and knew that he did, indeed, want more honey.

"One can never have enough honey." He declared, and Lilly imagined that he winked at that. She reached over to the honey pot and scooped a full comb into Mr. Bear's cup. He smiled greedily but held back from gulping down the whole cup. Lilly sat back and lifted her delicate teacup to her lips. She sipped the sugary tea and wondered how anyone could suffer to drink it any other way. Her mother liked to say that she had the taste buds of a hummingbird.

The garden in which their party gathered was in full bloom at the very peak of its season. Roses of every color imaginable climbed a towering stone wall with voluptuous azalea bushes hugging its base. A cobblestone path led a winding trail to the back porch of her most recent home. Lilly loved Amsterdam. She decided this only a few hours into living there when she discovered the lavish and secluded back garden.

"The tea you requested, Madame." Evelyn Cole towered over their little table, flourishing a pink floral teapot. Steam swirled from the spout and into the air.

"Thank you, very much." Lilly's posture stretched in a way that was meant to mimic Evelyn's when she was meeting a client. Lilly thought it was reminiscent of a Queen's posture, not that she had any queen to base that theory on. Her mother gracefully topped off the teacup set in front of her daughter, then made her way around the table. Evelyn played along.

"Pardon me." She said, leaning over Mr. Bear's shoulder. Then she asked if Mrs. Cottontail would like more tea. Lilly giggled a little.

It was rare that Evelyn had the time to play. In most cases, Lilly would rope the Au Pair into a game of tag through the garden or attempt to climb the big oak tree. When Evelyn wasn't there, it was acutely felt. Lilly knew her mother's work was important, but couldn't she be important too? Evelyn curtseyed to the table like a servant of royalty and headed toward the house. Lilly hoped she would return with sweets.

There was a low thunk from somewhere behind her. It was blunt and loud enough that Lilly whipped around in her chair, curls fanning as she spun. She expected to find her mother had dropped the teapot or tripped on the stone path, but Evelyn had already disappeared, leaving the garden door ajar. Lilly frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to place the strange noise. She listened to the songbirds exchange their tunes and the garden fountain bubble and splash.

"Mum?" Lilly called, craning her neck to get a better view. "Is that you?" Lilly knew it wasn't. It sounded as if it had come from the side of the house. That part of the garden was concealed by a line of well-groomed hedges. Lilly spun in her chair and stood, smoothing her dress down with her palms.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some investigating to do." She curtseyed to her friends, then skipped towards the sound. The hedges ran along the side of the house, dividing the garden and a small path to a side gate. Lilly turned the corner, bunching her skirts in her hands. She was between the wall of the house and the hedge, too tall to see the tea party. It took her three steps to discover the cause of the noise.

Lilly gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Lying in the fresh green grass was a mass of blood and feathers. Its body was twisted and mangled. Tiny bones snapped like fine china. Lilly looked up at their kitchen window, framed by climbing ivy, where a spot of scarlet was smeared on the glass.

Lilly reached a hand out towards the bird. Its feathers were so soft. She ran her fingertips along its body and watched sticky blood clump the feathers into a stringy bedraggled mess. A hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked. Lilly yelped, falling back on her heels. She looked up with wide eyes. Evelyn stood over her, glancing between Lilly and the bloodied bird. The skin of her face creased in a way that made her look decades older than she was.

"Don't touch it, darling." Evelyn scolded, giving Lilly's arm a soft but determined tug. "You could catch something. Go inside and wash your hands, alright?" Lilly opened her mouth, her dark brows pulling in and up. She looked down at her hand, seeing the blood stuck to the tip of her fingers.

"But it needs help." Lilly looked at her mother through thick dark lashes, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. Lilly didn't care about germs when the bird was in pain. Who else would help it if not her? Evelyn crouched beside her daughter, reaching out to redirect her chin from staring at the bloodied bird with the twisted neck.

"I'm afraid it's beyond that now." Evelyn pressed her lips together in a half frown. "All we can do is leave it in peace." Lilly dropped her chin, focusing on the chain tucked into her mother's shirt instead of looking into her eyes.

"What happened to it?"

"It must've flown into the window, thinking it was open." Evelyn sighed the words and tsked her tongue like it was just a broken glass, not a life lost.

"Can't we fix it?" Lilly looked up again, her dark eyes now misted with welling tears. "You fixed Mr. Bear when he wasn't feeling well." It would be as simple as a few stitches, and the bird would fly off, good as new.

"Some things just can't be fixed. No matter how terribly we want them to." Evelyn's hands slid from Lilly's wrist to her forearms, where she rubbed comforting circles into her skin.

"That's not fair." Lilly sniffed, glancing over at the mangled bird and swallowing hard to stop the closing of her throat with emotion.

"No, darling, it's not. Sometimes, life isn't fair." Evelyn gave a bitter smile. She reached up to run her thumb beneath Lilly's left eye, where a tear trickled down. "How about we get you cleaned up, then dig into the desert I have planned for our tea party?" Lilly sniffed, staring at the bird for a long moment, before wiping her nose and nodding. Evelyn grinned as if nothing had tainted their day. She stood and slid her hand into Lilly's. Lilly squeezed it tight, and let her mother lead her away.

Had they thought to look over their shoulder, they might have witnessed what came next. But that is not what happened. Evelyn and Lilly Cole returned to their tea party, none the wiser to the miracle unfolding in their own back garden.

In the shade of an azalea bush, a creature sulked. It watched the bloody mass of feathers with eyes the glowing blue of a sapphire. The air shifted, charged with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. Feathers ruffled, A leg twitched. In the bushes, the creature heard the tiny sputter of a heartbeat kick back to life. The bloodied feathers shook and puffed out, flicking spots of scarlet across the lawn. The bird's head twisted back into place with a sickening crunch of bones grinding and mending. Eyes peeled open and blinked as if waking from a dreamless sleep.

The creature remained as still as the garden statues. The bird, a mix of dusty gray and gold, stained with blood, hopped on two perfect legs. Its wings spread wide, and with a buzz of tiny flapping wings, it disappeared into the sky. The creature let out a low guttural growl.

The next week, Evelyn and Lilly Cole left Amsterdam.

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