“Talk to me about what?” Conor asked. His grandma crossed her arms. “About you coming to live with me.”
Conor frowned, and for a second the whole room seemed to get darker,
for a second it felt like the whole house was shaking,
for a second it felt like he could reach down and tear the whole floor right out of the dark and loamy earth– He blinked.
His grandma was still waiting for a response. “I’m not going to live with you,” he said.
“Conor–” “I’m never going to live with you.” “Yes, you are,” she said.
“I’m sorry, but you are. And I know she’s trying to protect you,
but I think it’s vitally important for you to know that when this is all over,
you’ve got a home, my boy. With someone who’ll love you and care for you.”
“When this is all over,” Conor said, fury in his voice, “you’ll leave and we’ll be fine.”
“Conor–” And then they both heard from the sitting room, “Mum? Mum?”
His grandma rushed out of the kitchen so fast, Conor jumped back in surprise.
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