I had my boyfriend pick a page, and he choose page 167.
But that night Miri had barely fallen asleep when she woke up sweating after a dream. Again of the redheaded twins: one was crying, the other sullen in the corner. IN the dark, her joke on the Storana seemed unnervingly real. The little linder house felt crowded with ghosts.
No singing came from the village that night. Only more tuneless whistling, like the call of some foreign bird.