I shouldn’t be here. I’m supposed to be in the Queen’s Hall helping my mother. I roll onto my back and squint at the sun until clouds move in front of it.
Someone calls me. The voice gets louder as it nears my hiding place. The doe lifts her head again, whirls, and leaps into the brush, her fawn trying to keep up.
“Hill-day!” the voice shrieks.
I push myself up, brush off my clothes, and turn around. I see that it’s one of the shepherd boys.
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