Jude felt a strange pressure behind his eyes.
The memory of the two boys in the little room seemed to grow clearer.
One had stood beside the window.
The other had sat on the bed.
One had wanted to leave.
The other had been afraid.
"Which one were you?" Jude asked.
The child smiled sadly.
"I was the one who asked you not to go."
A crack travelled across the window.
The darkness outside rippled.
Then something moved beyond the island.
Jude leaned closer.
At first, he thought it was a cloud.
Then he saw the shape of a hand.
An enormous hand, made from the same darkness surrounding the island, stretched towards the tree.
Its fingers were longer than the northern mountain.
They moved slowly, feeling their way through the silver sea.
The child stepped away from the window.
"It's coming."
"What is?"
"The thing that was outside."
Jude looked at him.
"You mean the thing you were afraid of?"
The child nodded.
"Why?"
"Because it wanted to come inside."
