Fiona spends her days inside the dwelling waiting for Lydia to return, carefully obeying her Guardian. Sometimes, if she has been obedient and completed her lessons without complaint, her Guardian lets her play outside, providing the sun is strong enough to light the corralled play area behind the dwelling but not so strong as to hurt the Guardian’s eyes. “Dim eyes,” Fiona says to herself, in the pedantic tone she uses when she pretends to correct her Guardian.
Today is brighter than other days but despite Fiona’s protests, the Guardian says it is too dark. Fiona knows when her Guardian makes up her mind, she is as intractable as her size is formidable.