"What do you think it could be?" she asked, tilting her head to one angle like a bird that had spotted something glistening. "Some sort of lingering connection to Deerington?" There was no denying they were the same trees. Every knob and knot was exactly as she remembered them. And they had the same scent of wood and chlorophyll and ozone.

She walked over to her nectarine tree--she called it "Jane"--and touched the bark, as if she could somehow absorb the answer through her fingertips.

"I never entirely understood why we'd sometimes receive gifts in Deerington. Someone told me it was probably Julia's doing. But she's gone, isn't she?" A fact that Ariadne lamented. It felt wrong to sacrifice her. Ariadne had strongly been opposed, but then...no one listened to her much.