Chapter 9: What the Crow Remembers

The lamp was still burning when she got home. She hadn't lit it.

Mara stood in the kitchen doorway for a moment, coat still on, looking at the small steady flame behind the brass casing, and then she went and put the kettle on because there was nothing else that made sense to do at quarter past one in the morning when you were discovering that the world was considerably larger and older than anyone had indicated and that your grandmother had known about all of it and said nothing for seventeen years.

Brekke was on the back of Gran's chair.