“Lie?”
She nodded. “Tell her what she wants to hear.”
“But I’m not supposed to tell lies.”
“White lies are fine.” She grinned. “I tell white lies all the time.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “Yup.”
“About what?”
“About my age when I want to do things that I’m too young for.” She grinned again. “And my…” A sad look came over her then and she sighed. “About lots of things.”
“Do you tell me lies?”
“Only to keep you safe.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She ruffled my hair again. “I am proud of you, you know. You’re talking like a normal human being and not freaking out every ten seconds. You’ve finally started primary school, made yourself a couple of little buddies, and you’ve even managed to snag yourself a party invite.” She winked. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
“He’s really pretty,” I sighed, feeling my mind drift back to Claire’s brother. “He’s got brown eyes and he’s tall, and he smells like soap and strawberries, and he doesn’t look like a troll at all.”
“Aw,” Caoimhe gushed, pressing her hand to her chest. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I pointed to my clothes then and asked, “Are you sure this is the right costume?”
“Oh yeah,” Caoimhe confirmed, perching sunglasses on my head like a hairband. “You lookamazing, Liz.”
Mammy was supposed to help me get ready, but she had to go to the hospital last night. For another sleepover. Daddy went to visit her this morning and left Caoimhe in charge.
“When’s she coming home?”
“Who?”
“Mam.”
“Soon.”
“Today?”
My sister shook her head. “Just soon, Liz.”
“I’m not stupid, Caoimhe,” I growled, feeling my body heat up. “I know something’s happening to Mam,” I choked out, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “I just…I don’t understand.”
“Be glad you don’t, Liz.” Sighing heavily, she wrapped her arms around me from behind and hugged me tightly. “Listen, when you’re old enough to understand, I’ll explain everything to you, but until then, just enjoy being a kid.”
I can’t, I wanted to scream.I’m too scared.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I pushed, stomach sinking. “Mammy’s really sick this time, isn’t she?”
“She was sick last time, too, and she got better,” my sister replied in a tight voice. “Mam’s a fighter. She’ll beat it again.”
“Why does it keep happening to her?”
“I don’t know.”
