The Sisters of Straygarden Place

snickered, loosening around her arms and legs even more, like hair falling from a plait. “Because,” it said. “Because you are ours, aren’t you?”
There, thought Mayhap — there was a gap. She slipped one foot out of the silver, then the other, whipping her arms from the grass’s tangle. She turned and she ran, stumbling, whistling for Seekatrix to follow.
The grass bristled, but it didn’t reach for her, and Mayhap did not pause to ask why.
She ran up the wide front steps and dived into the entrance hall, Seekatrix at her heels. She threw her body against the door, turning the key in the lock as quickly as her shaking fingers would allow.
“We’ll wait,” said the grass. “We’ll wait for you, Mayhap Ballastian. We have been patient for a long time, and we will be patient still.”
Mayhap slid to the floor. Seekatrix crept into her arms like a jittery shadow, and she let him lick away her tears. “Winnow,” she sobbed into his fur. “What have you done?”

“She’s not answering,” mewled Pavonine as she banged on the door of the upstairs sitting room. Mayhap and Seekatrix stood beside her as she got down on her knees to peer through the seed-shaped keyhole. “She’s locked it from the inside.”
Pavonine’s droomhund, Peffiandra, scratched and sniffed at the door while Seekatrix sat and twitched his ears. He knew Winnow wasn’t really there.
Earlier, Mayhap had tied a black silk stocking to the doorknob on the inside of the room, letting it hang over the keyhole so Pavonine wouldn’t be able to spy through it. She had locked the door and slipped the key into her pocket.
Little liar.
“I told you, Pav,” Mayhap said, patting the ruched shoulder of her sister’s pinafore, “Winnow is having a bad day.” She felt the untrue words reverberate through her.
“But it’s dinnertime,” said Pavonine, getting to her feet and smoothing her skirt. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called through the mahogany door: “Winnow, it’s dinnertime!” Peffiandra joined in with a howl.
Mayhap put her arm around Pavonine and led her away. “Let’s go ask the house for dinner. I’m sure Winnow will be down soon.”
When Pavonine finally relented, the sisters walked down the hallway together, the carpets beneath their feet as plush as tigers’ pelts, their droomhunds prancing behind them. The house had lit its electric lamps, and they glowed along the walls like giant luminescent flowers, droning strange harmonies.
“She’s been acting so oddly lately,” sighed Pavonine. “She’s always staring out the windows.”
Pavonine was right. Winnow had been behaving uncharacteristically — for weeks now. She seemed restless as a swishing skirt. But Mayhap didn’t know what to do about it. Every time she tried to ask Winnow what was wrong, her sister ignored her or changed the subject.
“She’s probably missing Mamma and Pappa,” said Mayhap. And she realized, with some shock, that she hadn’t even been that surprised to see a glimpse of Winnow in the silver grass — as if she’d known for ages that it was exactly what her sister wanted.
“I miss Mamma and Pappa, too,” said Pavonine, interrupting Mayhap’s thoughts. “But I don’t lock myself in rooms because of it.”
“Well, you’re not fourteen,” said Mayhap.
“I won’t do that when I’m fourteen,” said Pavonine, crossing her arms and frowning stubbornly. “I swear it.”
Mayhap smiled at her sister. “How about we play our guessing game, Pav?” she said. Pavonine kept her frown but nodded sheepishly. Mayhap said, “Think of an animal, think of a —”
“Got one,” Pavonine replied.
“Does it have scales?” asked Mayhap.
Pavonine shook her head.
“Fur?”
Pavonine nodded.
“It’s not a droomhund, is it?” teased Mayhap. “That would be far too easy.”
“It’s a bat,” someone said behind them.
Mayhap stopped short, nearly tripping over her own buckled shoes. Seekatrix jumped up and down at her side.
“Winnow!” cried Pavonine, flinging herself into her big sister’s arms. Peffiandra ran over to lick Evenflee’s face.
Winnow hugged Pavonine tightly, stroking the top of her head, but only looked at Mayhap. She didn’t come any closer. She was wearing an ankle-length violet dress with a narrow skirt, embroidery running in a column down its center — a dress for a lady instead of a girl. Her hair was elegantly styled, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on her anywhere. Her shoes were clean, too. Citrine earrings dangled at her neck.
She must’ve asked the house to change her clothes and do her hair, thought Mayhap.
The girls could change their clothes or coiffure in a matter of moments — they only had to ask the house to see to it. But the house couldn’t change Winnow’s flushed cheeks, her quickened breath. She had been running. Evenflee sat panting by her side, swishing his fluffy tail. He had been running, too.
“Winnow,” breathed Mayhap. “You’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” said Winnow. Her smile went to Pavonine.
Mayhap cleared her throat. “We were worried,” she said. “Because you were in the sitting room all day — with the door locked.”
Winnow only stared at Mayhap, saying nothing.
Pavonine bent down to pick Peffiandra up. She hugged the animal to her chest. Peffiandra had always been the most placid of the dogs. Her eyes relaxed sleepily. “Are you coming to dinner, Winn?” asked Pavonine, holding her cheek against Peffiandra’s face.
Winnow began to answer, then paused. She looked at Mayhap with precision — with recognition — as though she had only just realized that Mayhap resembled a character from her favorite book. “Of course,” she replied finally. “Of course I’m coming to dinner.”
Her voice sounded as though it were echoing from another room. It sounded as dark as the coffee she’d started to drink in the mornings — the coffee Mayhap couldn’t stand the smell of. It was a smell that made her feel as though she were being buried — as though her mouth were being stuffed with the damp, pungent grounds.
Mayhap coughed.
“Let’s go,” said Pavonine. “I’m famished.”
“Yes,” said Mayhap. “Let’s.”
Mayhap held out a hand, and Winnow came closer. She looked at Mayhap’s palm as though it were