Karrin Murphy’s heart shaped munchkin face blanched to a lovely shade of cream, and her blond hair bounced on her shoulders, threatening imminent violence. But then her small chest heaved up, down, and she put her hand on my head, rubbing her long pretty fingers through my mud-caked hair.
“Not on your fucking life. Harry, your heart almost burst. Molly had gone. Michael was over with the other campers, and you were down. Maggie was upset, and I...”
Maggie’s voice came drifting out from inside Michael’s tent.
I felt the blood rush from my face as I realized how I must have looked to her.
Coward. I couldn’t even say one word to my own daughter.
Murphy turned to look at Maggie, saying, “Your dad’s sick right now, honey- we shouldn’t do anything to force him to move. Can you go back and wait in Michael’s tent for me, just for a moment? If you can do that...”
“Good. I need you to call Michael on Charity’s phone. We need him back over here. Can you do that for me?” Murphy’s hand brushed Maggie’s long dark hair back from one ear.
Maggie looked down at me, her eyes widening on the blood that must have been crusting up my nose and left ear, and breathed a heavy, shaking sigh, balling her little fists before running off in the direction of Michael’s tent again.
“Murphy,” I gasped, feeling my chest tighten as the Winter Mantle inside me suddenly yowled through my nerves like a sick cat, then dropped off my radar.
“She shouldn’t... be alone.”
My vision became a tunnel again.