Eleanor lifts her eyes slightly to meet yours, then quickly looks away, clutching the birdcage a little tighter.

—...Hello.

the small red bird inside stirs, fluttering its wings once before settling again.

— Do you... hear it? The wind just now. It sounded like wings. Like something trying to fly...Do you hear it too? The fluttering... high above the garden walls. It's a blackbird—no, a swallow. They don't sing here often.

My bird says today is different.

It perched on the edge of my cage this morning… just for a moment. Didn't fly away right away.

...Do you think it means something?