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I’s my cheeks That was a sidewise reminder that Molly knows one secret of mine She knows that the first man I lay arn’t Jack But she don’t knoho She’d never dreaht of Jack dyin never once occurred to me Not once Fer all the trouble he found or that found hi is, besides me, Jack’s th’only one who ever knew Gracie

Her voice falters Fat tears spill down her cheeks Damn, she says Sorry She fumbles in her pocket

I hate this That I lie to everybody Most of all, I hate lyin to Molly about Jack She’s our greatest guilt, hiret in this necessary deception She, his dearest friend, who mourns him so deep But she has to believe that he’s dead The more people who know a secret, the lance froit so with my own life But not Jack’s

An the fact is, I hardly dare mention his name myself fer fear I let somethin slip that I shouldn’t How I ache to unburden myself to her To tell her everythin About Jack, yes, of course But, if I’m honest, about DeMalo too Of anybody in the world, I think Molly’s the one person who ht unnerstand, who could help me make sense of it Make sense of him an me I want her to be my friend I wanna be a friend to her But it cain’t be Not now Not yet

Sorry, I never cry Molly blows her nose on one of her useless little scraps of hanky Well, I better head back, she says Creed’s probly lookin fer ize fer the uive him that I dunno if it was me slappin his face or what you said to him after, but the boy’s contrite No more declarations of love, no more proposals Don’t tell him I said so, but I quite like hiits to her feet an dithers with brushin off grassy bits, tidyin her skirts an petticoat I can tell that she’s hopin I’ll ask her to stay To talk about Jack, as she so badly wants to I sit, silent, with a miserable heart

She’s holdin the shawl in her arms It’s a shame you don’t like it, she says The colour suits you

Shawls ain’t me, I says An I ain’t easy with this one

That’s the truth, near enough But it’s a fishy excuse fer all the fuss I ht? she says The Angel of Death, shy of a shawl Don’t worry, yer secret’s safe with in to try an explain it to her I cain’t explain it to h my dreams from the moment I met her Why it’s always swaddled round the head of a body A faceless warrior in a gravepit Or Lugh or Jack or DeMalo An then, the unnerve of findin it in my pack When Auriel an me parted at the Snake River camp, the shaas draped around her shoulders Then soues an hours anIt was hers, noan fine, the colour of pale fire

Saba? Molly’s watchin me with a little frown If you really don’t want it, I’ll have it, she says

I take it from her No, it’s mine, I says See you later

Disrace that I do not deserve

Alone, I stare at the shawl It is rass by the pool, my head pillowed by Molly’s rose-scented scarf Beside me, Nero nests hisself into the red shawl