The clock on the bedside table said it was still early, but the pale, thin strip of light beneath the blinds indicated the sun was well up. Outside a dog barked and somewhere inside an old kettle whistled as it boiled, reminding Isabelle of her childhood visits to her grandmother’s house.In a moment of clarity Isabelle remembered – they were at the farm. Fran had miraculously arrived with impeccable timing moments after the final box was unloaded from the truck. She dragged them all out of the house and insisted they stay overnight with her. Fletcher and Mietta were overjoyed. After Fran fed them all, Isabelle fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.She pulled a polar fleece dressing gown off the hook on the back door – Fran had thought of everything – and yanked on thick socks. The morning air still had a chill to it. Padding her way down the hallway towards the kitchen, she peered into the rooms where Fletcher and Mietta were sleeping, only to find their beds both empty. Surprised but not alarmed, she entered the kitchen and found Fran at the large stovetop.She turned and wiped her hands on one corner of her apron.
