Alone in the bee-loud sanctuary of the orphanage garden, Gennifer stretched her lithe little body and began to dance her joy. The chief of her tormentors had a holiday and had gone to the seaside for a whole month.
Genny was pulled from playfulness by the sound of light applause. She looked around in panic. At first she could see nobody, but then her eye alighted on a winged figure sitting at his ease on a honeysuckle blossom heavy with nectar.
“Who are you?” she quavered.
“Changeling child. I am your brother.”
And Gennifer grew wings to fly away…
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