Her eyes flew open in alarm. Looming over her was Aunt Sarah’s sharp-nosed face; her thin hand rested upon Sally’s forehead. Something moved at the foot of the bed, and Sally’s eyes turned quickly to confront Shadow, seated at her feet. He narrowed his eyes and looked back at her, unblinking. For just a moment it was like another bad dream. Sally thought that she might scream, but she found that her throat had gone so dry that she could never have managed it. Which, after all, was probably just as well. For what good would it do? Her aunt, seeing Sally staring up at her, quickly drew her hand away. Sally immediately closed her eyes again, hoping that Aunt Sarah would think she was sleeping and go away. But “Sally,” her aunt whispered. Sally did not answer for a time, but at last, feeling Aunt Sarah still standing there, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at her. This close, with the morning sun filling the room, she could see that Aunt Sarah’s eyes, like Shadow’s, were pale green.
